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Sanji looked like he was having a great time, and it was starting to piss Zoro the fuck off. There was something about the way he was being passed from woman to woman during the island’s festivities that irked the swordsman beyond all reason. He watched the Straw Hat crew’s cook as he danced with the happy civilians, smiling and laughing without a care in the world to the upbeat sound of the band’s performance.
Sanji definitely knew how to dance—his body moved like he was made for it—and Zoro found himself comparing his graceful movements to when they fought one another, noting that the motions weren’t much different at all, only less aggressive. He had seen the cook dancing and fighting many times, and it never ceased to excite him, but he was so deep in the pit of denial about the reasons why that he sometimes wondered if it were even possible to climb out.
The party was lively, the booze was good, and the company was spirited and accommodating to the pirates who saved their little village from the group of ruffians trying to set-up camp in their once peaceful hometown. It hadn’t been a difficult fight, but the citizens threw them an enormous block party anyway. Zoro watched from the sidelines, taking large swigs from a flagon of beer with a disinterested countenance that masked his true scrutiny of the Shitty-cook.
Sanji was migrating closer to Zoro now, swapping dance partners with each verse of song and swinging his hips in time with the rhythm. An inexplicable impulse pulled Zoro from his chair as the blond neared him in the crowd. He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he cut into the line of dancing women without consciously deciding to, catching the cook’s hand on one of his turns.
Zoro reeled Sanji in, spinning him like he had seen the other man do a hundred times, and suddenly the two of them were moving in perfect synchronization with only the smallest moment of hesitation from Sanji when he caught sight of his green-haired partner. Zoro’s brain shut off the moment the blond’s fingers closed around his, and then his body simply moved as if he were in a trance, alternating between following and directing Sanji’s motions as they took turns leading the dance.
Sanji was distinctly aware of the abnormality of the situation, but he had grabbed Zoro’s hand and followed through automatically with the required turn before fully registering who his new dance partner was. He would have stopped and snapped something rude at the swordsman had his surprise not been so paralyzing—it was less the fact that he was dancing with Zoro that shocked him than the inconceivable notion that the swordsman was actually a good dancer!
The two men were effortlessly twirling and stepping in harmony with the other’s movements as though they were professional dance partners rather than bitter rivals. It was so well-coordinated that the surrounding party-goers immediately gave them a wide birth to extend the reach of their turns. Sanji had completely tuned out the growing audience, meeting Zoro’s gaze for the first time during a particularly intimate brush of their bodies. They were moving so naturally through the steps and reacting automatically just as they did when fighting.
That gave Sanji an idea—he dropped into an abrupt backbend over Zoro’s arm, hoping to throw him off with the unexpected addition to the routine, but the swordsman wasn’t phased in the slightest. A warm hand gripped the back of his thigh, helping him to complete the flip and recapturing the cook’s hand as he straightened out of the bend. A grin broke out on their faces in unison, and the dance quickly evolved into a complicated series of handstands and lifts that showed off Sanji’s unique fighting style and Zoro’s incredible strength. The new moves required a fair bit of contact, hands roaming around waists and under thighs as the blond’s lithe figure was wrapped around and over the swordsman’s broader form in impressively artistic contortions of his flexible body.
Zoro spoke for the first time when one of Sanji’s moves landed them face-to-face, skin flushed, sweat beading on their foreheads, and grins yet to fade. “You know that party table kick course thing you do?” he asked breathlessly. Sanji nodded. “Put your hands on my shoulders,” Zoro suggested, his gaze challenging.
Without missing a beat, Sanji fit his shoe into Zoro’s clasped fingers and sprang lightly above the swordsman’s head. He kept his hands on the man’s wide shoulders, using the momentum to swing his legs up in a handstand and spinning his body in a graceful circle. It should have been difficult to maneuver his hands around a person’s head, but Zoro was like a rock beneath him, solid and unyielding, as Sanji supported his own weight throughout the turns.
There was a brief pause after the spin was completed when Zoro looked up, grasping the cook’s forearms to steady him, and his dark eyes met two crystal-blue ones—the blond fringe that usually covered one side of Sanji’s face was now hanging in such a way that its entirety was visible from the angle below. The swordsman’s surprise must have been conveyed by his widening eyes because Sanji smirked and said, “You’d better not drop me, Moss-head,” before tensing his hands to spring off.
Zoro’s reflexes were skilled enough that he was able to catch the other man on his descending twist, spinning him bridal-style with the momentum before releasing him into another acrobatic flip. That became their finishing move as the song came to an end, and reality abruptly set in. The sound of the audience’s cheering overpowered the rush of adrenaline that was fueling them during their impromptu dance routine, and both men stared at one another from across the short distance in stunned silence.
Sanji was gaping at the swordsman, completely flabbergasted and clearly waiting for some kind of explanation, so Zoro made an awkward gesture to the crowd of dancers and said, “You uh…looked like you were having fun.”
“The fuck—I don’t understand. You’ve always said you hated dancing, but you can dance like that? What the hell even was that?!”
“I do hate dancing,” Zoro admitted, smirking at Sanji’s total incomprehension at what just happened. They didn’t have any more time for words once their crew enveloped them with enthusiastic hugs and hard pats on the back. Sanji was still shell-shocked, and Zoro’s face flushed red in utter embarrassment.
“That was SO COOL!!!!” Luffy shouted, wrapping his rubbery limbs around his first mate like a particularly clingy monkey.
“I’ve never seen you move like that, Zoro—you were incredible!” Chopper commented in awe.
“You were both incredible, Sanji-kun! Did you practice that beforehand?” Nami asked them excitedly. Her eyes had turned into berries which meant she thought their dance skills had the potential to be translated into monetary value.
“Us? Practice? Of course not, Nami-swan! I would never dance with that brute!”
“But you just did, Cook-san,” Robin pointed out with a sly grin.
Sanji went crimson and glared at Zoro, silently demanding him to offer an explanation, but the swordsman didn’t have a good excuse and knew that the truth would only make the cook even angrier. Instead of joining the conversation, Zoro detached himself from their excitable captain and promptly left the circle of admirers with an offhand remark about finding more booze.
Sanji was left to endure the insensitive remarks of their crew, ranging from honest praise of the cook and the swordsman’s newfound talent from the younger men to brazenly explicit comments from the others about how well the two of them had moved together. It was beyond embarrassing, and the Idiot-swordsman had disappeared without so much as a thank you or a taunt though the latter seemed more likely—Sanji assumed that the whole thing was some sort of cruel joke at his expense.
“Why the fuck would that asshole pull me into a dance like that if he wasn't trying to make fun of me?” Sanji grumbled to himself.
He moved a short distance away from the bustling crowd, angrily waving off the requests that he and Zoro do another dance for the next song. He didn't even notice Robin standing in the shadows a few feet from him, jumping in surprise when she replied to his mutterings and nearly knocking over the table of refreshments when he spun around to face her.
“I don’t think Swordsman-san meant to offend you,” she commented idly. There was a smile playing at her lips that made Sanji’s skin tingle—she looked like she knew something he didn’t.
“When isn’t he trying to offend me?” the cook argued, careful to keep his tone light since he was talking to a lady. “He’s always trying to make me look stupid. I hate him!”
“No, I don’t think you do,” Robin said serenely.
Sanji wanted to deny it—he really did—but this was Robin-chan, and he couldn’t bring himself to insist that such a lovely creature was wrong. “I know he’s my nakama, but I can still violently dislike him, can’t I?”
She chuckled at his rewording, shaking her head again in dissent. “Perhaps in certain moments you feel that way, but overall, I think you and Zoro are rather infatuated with each other.”
Sanji’s mind blanched. “I…w-whatever do you mean by that, Robin-chan?” he asked, mouth going dry.
“Wouldn’t you agree that there’s something primal that attracts the two of you together whenever you’re fighting—or dancing as was the case tonight?”
“Wha—of course not! Unless you’re referring to our mutual disdain for each other. You have the strangest ideas, my sweet, but that makes you all the more interesting,” he complimented her weakly.
Robin’s knowing smile was still in place as her eyes bore into him as if she could reach inside Sanji’s heart and soul and pick him apart with her gaze.
“Hmm…whatever you say, Cook-san, but the two of you looked quite happy during that dance—just something to think about,” she told him dismissively. “If you’re wondering where Swordsman-san is, I saw him heading down to the beach with a bottle of whiskey. Perhaps he’ll be in the mood to share.”
With that, she turned and melted back into the throng of happy villagers to join Nami in the lounge chairs. Sanji watched her departure with mingled confusion and anxiety. Her words had really thrown him off. Robin was incredibly perceptive—he didn’t believe she would insist that Zoro wasn’t trying to be an asshole unless she was certain, but why else would that green-haired idiot join the festivities, dance with Sanji, and then disappear so suddenly? It was all so strange. Robin’s comment that Zoro had gone down to the beach was obviously a suggestion that he follow the swordsman and ask him.
Sanji decided to do just that—to solve the mystery, of course.
Meanwhile, Zoro had set up a one man pity-party at the edge of the beach and was attempting to drown himself in liquor before he drowned himself in the ocean. His spontaneous decision to join Sanji in a dance had been a horrible mistake—those damn thoughts returned with a vengeance even though he spent months carefully meditating them away. He thought he was finally rid of them, but it turned out they were just lingering beneath the surface of his denial, waiting to be dragged out and rekindled by one glimpse of the Shitty-cook’s eyes.
Sanji’s entire face—now that had been a novelty to witness. It would have been worth confirming that the blond’s eyebrows were both curly had it not also brought those dangerous thoughts to the forefront of his mind…
Zoro thought the cook was damn beautiful.
He tried not to think it, and had almost convinced himself that he really did hate the bastard until this happened, and his iron will crumbled under the weight of his true feelings. It was disgraceful, really. He wanted to be the World’s Greatest Swordsman, but he couldn’t even school his emotions long enough to forget about that damn blond.
“Oi! Moss-head!” Speak of the devil… “What the fuck are you doing all the way out here when the party isn’t over? If you stray this far from the crew, you’ll get lost, and then we’ll have to spend the whole night trying to find your directionally-challenged ass!”
Sanji barked the insults from the top of the hill, causing Zoro’s hackles to raise automatically at the sound of his gravelly voice as he casually make his way down to the beach. He lit a cigarette and joined the dismayed swordsman at the rock he was using as a table for his liquor bottles.
“What do you want, Dartboard-brows?” he asked, pluralizing the nickname in light of his recent discovery of the cook’s second spiraling eyebrow. “You know I can find my way back to the ship if I need to…eventually.”
“Yeah well, ‘eventually’ is often inconvenient as fuck for the rest of us—save everyone the trouble and come back with me.”
“No,” Zoro told him with a defiant swig that burned on the way down his throat. “I’m good here. Leave me alone, will you? Let me enjoy my damn drink in peace.”
Sanji bristled at that, frowning down at his stupid green head with growing anger. “What, you got a problem with my company all of a sudden? You didn’t seem too opposed to me five fucking minutes ago when we were dancing—which was embarrassing as hell, by the way, not that you stuck around to endure the aftermath,” he grumbled irritably.
“Aww, did they tease you, Cook? Was your precious masculinity wounded in front of the ladies?”
“Fuck you, asshole!” Sanji snapped instantly, shoving his foot into Zoro’s back and causing him to spit out a mouthful of whiskey. “I guess that was your plan all along, huh—make Sanji look like a queer in front of the whole island? Were you just trying to mess with me?”
Zoro’s back stiffened at that, tension coiling in every muscle, but he didn’t turn around even though his hands were shaking with barely concealed rage. “You got me,” he said finally, but his voice sounded lifeless. He muffled it with another enormous gulp of alcohol.
Sanji just stared at his back, surprised that Zoro wasn’t rising to his bait like usual. Robin’s insistence that the Moss-head didn’t have any malicious intent made him wonder why else Zoro might want to cut into Sanji’s dance. Something had obviously shaken the swordsman enough that even the cook’s clear invitation for a fight was being denied.
“Well, if you were trying to mess with me then it didn’t work,” he told Zoro purposefully, deciding to test him and see if he could drag out what was really bothering the swordsman. “It was actually kind of fun—like when we fight—and the teasing from the crew was halfhearted anyways,” he amended, watching the other man’s back for a reaction.
There wasn’t one.
Sanji rethought Robin’s words and tried a different approach, taking another drag from his cigarette to steel himself before casually saying, “Robin said there’s an attraction between us.”
Now that got a reaction—Zoro's entire body jerked in surprise, fingers tightening around the neck of his bottle and knuckles going white. He was so silent that he could have been holding his breath. Slowly, the swordsman relaxed his grip to take another drink as he muttered, “That woman is a nutjob.”
He was flat on his back a second later as Sanji pinned him to the ground with long legs and a furious glare. “Don’t insult Robin-chan, fuckface! I’ll grind you into the sand!”
Zoro’s mouth dropped open at his choice of words, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he quickly looked away from the other man and snapped, “Get the hell off of me!”
He tried to reach for Sanji, meaning to throw him to the side and free himself, but the cook had other ideas. He slid backwards to lure Zoro’s arms toward him before quickly pinning those down too, gripping the green-haired man by the wrists. Sanji’s upper body strength was no match for the swordsman’s, so he shifted forward again and carefully pinned Zoro’s arms in place with his powerful thighs.
“Let my fucking arms go, bastard! I told you to get off!”
“I might if you keep squirming under me like that,” Sanji said without thinking. He could feel the hardening bulge between Zoro’s legs as he bucked in a foolish attempt to dislodge the cook. The motion was creating a pleasant friction against Sanji’s cock, and the dirty pun slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Their faces were equally scarlet when they realized what had been said.
“Y-you…fucking…Shitty-pervert-cook!” Zoro raged, finally managing to yank one of his arms free which he used to grip Sanji’s jacket below the collar and drag him in to meet his furious glare. “I suggest you get the fuck off of me, otherwise my dream of being the World's Greatest Swordsman will end tonight because I will goddamn kill you, and Luffy will have to kill me,” he growled, nearly burning himself on Sanji’s lit cigarette.
“Why're you so mad, Marimo? We fight like this all the time,” Sanji asked innocently. He braced himself above the seething swordsman, removing the cigarette from his lips and snuffing it out in the sand.
“Look, I wasn’t trying to mess with you with that dance, okay? Don’t make fun of me just because you assumed I was trying to make fun of you!” Zoro snapped, shoving Sanji back an inch, but the blond refused to back down.
“That’s not what I’m doing—this isn’t a joke,” Sanji told him honestly.
The cook had figured it out. Judging by the obvious hard-on in Zoro’s pants, the swordsman was indeed attracted to Sanji as Robin had suggested though he wouldn’t let himself believe that such a delicate lady had meant that kind of attraction. The most astounding thing was that Sanji realized he didn’t even mind. It was kind of hot to discover that his rival—the stoic and self-disciplined swordsman—was lusting after him the entire time that Sanji had been in utter denial about his own feelings…
He thought Zoro was sexy as hell.
“I’m serious, Cook! Don’t fuck with me right now, or someone’s gonna die!” Zoro warned him in a dark, dangerous tone to make it clear he was genuinely furious.
“Just listen to me for a minute, you thick-headed idiot! If your ears can’t manage it, at least listen with your body,” Sanji told him, pressing himself more firmly against the swordsman. Their erections lined up and rubbed together through the strained fabric of their pants, causing Zoro to let out a strangled noise in response to the filthy motion. He flushed a beautiful shade of scarlet, eyes going wide as he finally registered the state of Sanji’s arousal.
“Y-you…you’re—!”
“Yeah, dumbass. Now can I kiss you or not?” Sanji asked impatiently. He was already leaning down, tongue flicking over his lips as he met Zoro’s gaze questioningly. The longing in the blond’s eyes was so unexpected that the swordsman could only sputter a wordless reply. Sanji to let out a frustrated growl and caught the other man’s chin in a firm grip. “I know you aren’t exactly a lovely lady, but despite how it looks with me pinning you underneath me like this, I’m still a gentleman—that means I’m gonna need some fucking verbal consent, Moss-head!”
“Fuck—yes—just do it already!” Zoro snapped, gasping into the cook’s hot mouth as it descended on his with a vengeance. Sanji slid his hand from Zoro’s chin to the collar of his t-shirt, gripping it tightly and pulling the swordsman bodily from the ground into a seated position so the blond could straddle him more comfortably. He freed Zoro’s second hand which quickly joined the other at the cook’s slim waist.
Their lips moved like waves in a storm, parting and crashing in random surges, tongues slipping together in a rough battle for dominance. Zoro saw stars when Sanji started rocking his hips in time with the rhythm of their kisses—pleasure filled his core, coiling behind his navel as blood rushed to his groin. There wasn’t anything left upstairs for coherent brain function—all he could think was yeees!
The cook broke the kiss to latch his mouth onto the base of Zoro’s throat instead. He sucked hard enough to draw out bruises on the swordsman’s collarbone, licking the blood-flushed marks while continuing to grind his hips against Zoro's in a steady rhythm. Sanji gave himself over to his impulses—he didn’t hesitate to slip his hands under Zoro’s shirt and drag his palms over the hard, chiseled muscle. Zoro made an indignant noise when Sanji gripped his pectorals like they were actually a woman’s breasts.
“Nice tits,” he commented between kisses with a smug little smirk. Zoro shot him a death-glare and retaliated by cupping the blond’s ass cheeks and squeezing them in a rough parody of a caress. He pulled their lower halves tighter together and began trailing his hands along the length of Sanji’s taut thighs, kneading those strong muscles that made the cook such a dangerous unarmed opponent. A pleased noise rumbled in the back of Sanji's throat as he instinctively locked his ankles behind Zoro’s back to help stabilize them in the shifting sand.
“Fuck—you’ve got legs for days, Cook.”
“I’m damn flexible, too,” Sanji responded with a suggestive roll of his hips. Zoro’s pupils dilated as they captured the blond’s heated gaze, holding it with a sudden intensity that was no doubt the result of a fresh wave of lust. His hands returned to grip the cook’s hips, fingers digging into the fabric of his dress-shirt as he tugged it out of the other man’s waistband.
“Give me a demonstration, Pervert-cook. You should take off this stuffy suit—it’ll restrict your movements.”
“I’d tell you to do it for me, but I doubt a Neanderthal with moss for brains could manage this many buttons,” Sanji quipped infuriatingly.
Zoro growled and caught the blond by his collar, yanking roughly at the material to pop the first button off. “Say something like that again, and I’ll slice your precious suit into ribbons!”
Sanji echoed Zoro’s growl, eyes narrowing angrily as they followed the button’s path to where it landed in the sand. “You won’t enjoy the way I handle your private parts if you damage my fucking clothes again!” he responded though the threat was partly diminished by the blatant arousal in his voice. “If you don’t like my smart mouth, you’d better find another way to shut me up, Shitty-swordsman.”
Zoro dove in to do exactly that, fingers threading into blond hair to grip it by the roots and tilt Sanji’s head into a better angle for an even deeper kiss. The cook continued working Zoro’s dick into a near-painful erection with delicious thrusts of his pelvis, eliciting an actual moan from the green-haired man. The sound reverberated through their lips, prompting the blond to smirk against the swordsman’s panting mouth.
“Getting all hot and bothered, Marimo?” Sanji muttered smugly.
“My body temperature is naturally hot, and you always bother me, Curly-brows,” he shot back.
“If I’m so bothersome, maybe I’ll just go back to the party and dance with my sweet Nami-san.”
Zoro let out a dangerous growl and abruptly rocked forwards onto his knees, giving Sanji no choice but to lean back against the sand—his legs were still wrapped tightly around the swordsman’s waist, hands grappling at Zoro’s broad shoulders as the reversed position placed Zoro on top. The heavier man mirrored Sanji’s hip rolling motion, increasing the pressure between their throbbing cocks and causing the blond to gasp in pleasant surprise.
“I see your hidden talent for moving on the dance floor extends to other physical activities,” Sanji told him huskily. He was grudgingly impressed by the confident way Zoro worked his body because it was nearly as unexpected as the revelation that the muscle-headed sword-freak had actual prowess at dancing. The cook could feel that their current movements were decidedly less refined and were quickly evolving into wild, carnal desire.
Zoro’s hands were all over him now—he even proved Sanji wrong and unfastened his suit buttons almost as fast as the cook could have done it himself. He was quickly extricated from his jacket and shirt as Zoro’s hot mouth began repaying him for the bruises on the swordsman’s tanned skin. Sanji’s paler complexion marked easily—the love bites would be glaringly obvious afterwards—but he couldn’t find it in himself to care because it just felt so damn good to be touched this way.
If the cook were being honest with himself, a lovesick fool like him didn’t get much attention from the ladies unless he paid for it. That was one of the sad realities of being in a notorious pirate crew always on the move and in near-constant danger from the horrors of the Grand Line, not to mention the fact that Sanji was admittedly overly-emphatic with his flirtations. Unfortunately for the Love-cook, most women were actually turned off by such enthusiastic behavior.
This was completely different by comparison—the raw physical attraction he felt for the swordsman was surprisingly easy to express sexually because Sanji didn’t feel the same intrinsic desire to please Zoro and over-exaggerate the respect he felt for him like he did with women. Respect was already unspoken between them, and despite all of their differences and bickering resulting from what Sanji had now identified as a mixture of masculine competitiveness and sexual tension, they were well-matched in all things physical. The cook and the swordsman made a good team regardless of whether they were fighting an enemy, fighting each other, dancing in front of a cheering crowd, or rutting like sex-crazed animals on a beach.
All this raced through his mind as Zoro ravished his throat and chest, licking and sucking every inch of the cook’s flushed skin. Sanji was panting embarrassingly loud as these feelings flooded his mind with such intensity that the blond groaned and curled his toes in his shoes. Why now? he thought dazedly. Am I actually falling for this idiot, or have I always wanted this? he wondered, but more concerningly, Will I still want it tomorrow?
“Fucking hell,” Sanji muttered, screwing his eyes shut as if he could block out the confusion that way. He was completely overwhelmed by the emotions Zoro’s touch was eliciting, struggling to piece together some sort of explanation so he could ask the other man what this would mean for them. Zoro wasn’t exactly helping his coherency—the swordsman’s lips were locked over one of Sanji’s nipples, tongue flicking over the raised bud as he sucked and nipped lightly with his teeth in a way that sent tingling shocks of pain-pleasure through the cook’s system.
As if that weren’t enough of a distraction, Zoro somehow managed to talk while still concentrating on his task, humming lowly in appreciation. “Mmm…you’re pretty tasty, Cook,” he commented, releasing Sanji’s nipple to drag his tongue along the blond’s collarbone and throat before latching onto the sensitive skin beneath his ear.
“What am I, a damn dessert?” the cook asked sarcastically, but he completely surrendered to Zoro’s mouth and had no real complaint at the treatment.
He felt the swordsman’s wide grin against the side of his neck. “A delicious dessert—you’re all creamy skin and honey-colored hair with a hint of smokiness from your cigarettes—spicy personality, too.”
Sanji scoffed and flicked the other man’s ear, causing his three gold earrings to jangle musically. “All those flavors together would make an awful dish, Idiot-marimo.”
“Bet you could make it taste good,” he replied instantly, capturing the cook’s mouth again. Sanji moaned into it as his pleasure at hearing Zoro’s uncharacteristic praise of his cooking skills overrode the last shred of resistance he held onto because of lingering doubts.
Fuck it, he thought recklessly. Feelings are for mornings—it's future Sanji's problem. Before he could talk himself out of it, the cook broke their kiss and regarded the swordsman with a lustful gaze. “You’re doing an awful lot of talking for someone who’s still fully dressed. I appreciate the compliments and all, but are we gonna fuck or just make-out like teenagers?”
Zoro’s eyebrows shot up, eyes going wide as he processed the sincerity in the Sanji's voice. His lips curled into a sexy smirk, hands roaming to the cook’s golden happy trail to fist the waistband of his pants. “Are you serious, Cook? Do you even know how to fuck a man?”
“No, but I’m so hard my dick feels like it's gonna fall off, so I’m trusting you to take it from here,” Sanji admitted, too horny to even be concerned about the hit to his pride at the moment. He could feel Zoro in a similar state which aroused him even more. The cook didn’t think he could take it much longer—he needed to come, and he wanted to see the ever so composed swordsman come apart with him.
“Damn, Sanji. What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? What happened to the ultimate ladies' man?”
“I have no fucking idea, and I honestly don’t want to think about it—just fuck me until I can’t think at all!”
To the cook’s utter frustration, Zoro was hesitant to simply surrender to their lust and let it take complete control. He paused to seriously consider his response, brow furrowing in concentration for a painfully long moment before saying, “I'm not sure that's a good idea. I could end up hurting you if it’s your first time, and this is too fucking weird—are you drunk?”
“Asshole, I'm not drunk! I can take you, Shitty-moss! Just touch me already—distract me so I can stop analyzing why the fuck I even want you to!”
“Fine, but I don’t wanna hear any shit about it later. You’ve been warned, Cook.”
Zoro hovered over the blond’s lean body, finally removing his own shirt to match Sanji’s state of undress. Without further delay, the swordsman made quick work of the other man’s belt, tossing it aside and freeing his flushed cock from the confines of his pants and underwear. He paused to look closely at the cook’s erection, admiring the pale vision that was Sanji’s body in the moonlight.
The way Zoro looked at him made the cook’s stomach somersault and his heartbeat race in double time because women tended to look at Sanji with eyes pleading for his admiration, but Zoro’s eyes were different—he looked at Sanji the way the blond had looked at those girls. It was strange to be on the receiving end of that kind of desire, so he couldn’t help but blush at how obvious it was that the swordsman found him attractive.
Sanji returned the look automatically, eyes roaming over every inch of the other man’s perfect body. He couldn’t help it—Zoro was half naked which wasn’t exactly new since the swordsman worked-out practically twenty-four-seven in nothing but a loose pair of pants. Seeing him kneeling over the cook like this in all his tanned glory was a whole new level of attractiveness. “You’re really beautiful,” the blond heard himself say.
Zoro blinked and slowly flushed a delicate shade of red, obviously caught off guard by the unusual compliment. This only added to the loveliness of his skin’s coloring, and Sanji felt a smile growing on his face in response. I never let myself really see him before, he realized. I suppose I always knew that he was good-looking, but…fuck, he’s painfully gorgeous.
“You took the words right out of my mouth, Curly-brows.”
Without warning, Zoro reached out and swept the cook’s blond fringe aside, exposing his other eye and second spiraling eyebrow. Sanji stilled instantly, every instinct telling him to knock Zoro’s hand aside and cover that part of his face again, but even his insecurity was outweighed by the intensity of the other man’s gaze. The swordsman drank in the sight of his face with unmistakable awe, tongue flicking over his bottom lip as his lust rekindled with renewed vigor.
“Shit,” he muttered shakily, dropping the blond’s hair back into place. “I think I could use a distraction, too—before I say something super embarrassing that I can’t take back,” Zoro admitted, ducking his head. The sudden warmth enveloping Sanji’s swollen cock caused him to cry out in surprise and buck into the wet cavern of Zoro’s mouth. All rational thought left his mind which was exactly the outcome he was looking for.
Zoro’s heat was everywhere, setting the cook on fire at each point of contact. His lips created a tight band of warmth around the flushed head of his cock, and the velvety skin lining the inside of that glorious mouth seared his twitching shaft as it slid along Sanji’s length—oh God—were his hands burning imprints into the cook’s hips as he held the blond firmly in place? It felt so good that Sanji thought he might cry.
“Want me to swallow when you come? I’ll suck out every last drop,” Zoro told him clearly.
It was as if the swordsman didn’t even have a dick halfway down his throat. How the hell does he manage that?! Sanji thought, truly impressed and violently turned on by the fact. Zoro took in the cook’s full length with one smooth motion until the head bumped into the back of his throat. Instead of choking like the blond expected, he swallowed slowly, making Sanji squirm as the muscles clenched and massaged his sensitive cock. An embarrassingly wanton moan ripped its way out of the cook as a particularly strong wave of pleasure rocked him. Zoro hummed in response, the sound reverberating along his entire shaft.
“Fucking hell—oh, sh-shit! Zoro, how are you so g-good at this?” Sanji panted, writhing in the sand as the other man’s mouth reduced him to a stuttering mess.
“It’s 'cuz I'm used to putting swords in my mouth,” he quipped, still with perfect clarity.
It was an incredibly sexy skill. Sanji could feel each word on his cock as Zoro’s mouth folded fluidly around it. He swallowed the entire length again, closing his lips and sucking hard enough to hollow his cheeks. The delicious pressure shot straight to the blond’s balls where his orgasm was building to an unprecedented level—there was no time to warn Zoro when it suddenly reached its peak, come shooting violently into the back of the swordsman's throat. Sanji practically screamed the other man’s name among a stream of very creative cussing, his hands flying to knot in Zoro’s hair as he emptied himself into that wonderful heat. Every last drop went down exactly as he said.
Sanji was sweating and trembling as the intense orgasm shook his entire body. It had been a long time since the cook had come like that. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure if he had ever come that hard—the pleasure was so extreme it was clouding his thoughts, making it impossible to recall past experiences. When the sensations began to ebb, languid bliss spread throughout the blond, and he melted into the beach, grateful that Zoro had thought to lay their clothes under Sanji’s back so he didn’t collect a sweaty layer of sand.
He blinked away stars as he came down from the high, hyper-aware of the fact that Zoro was carefully releasing his own erection to relieve the tightness in his pants. Sanji felt his eyes widen as he tried to understand what the sight of a naked, fully-aroused Zoro was doing to him. He didn’t think he had ever seen a more attractive man—even though the swordsman didn’t have the most classically beautiful features or a conventional hair color, the sharp angles and perfectly toned body added to his rugged good looks which was certainly appealing to the fighting cook. Zoro was also impressively well-endowed below—a fact that made Sanji understandably nervous about experiencing intimately.
Still, he never backed down from a challenge and had no desire to go back on his decision now that he had set his mind to it. The thought of being fucked by Zoro was a big enough turn on that Sanji barely needed to touch himself to bring his spent erection back to life. It also helped that Zoro knew just how to pleasure him with hands that were nearly as skilled as his mouth. It wasn’t long before Sanji's cock was at full attention again and leaking precome into the swordsman’s strong hand. Zoro collected it and smeared it over his fingers, bringing them to rest at the cook’s entrance.
Sanji froze when he felt his own stickiness coating the sensitive ring of muscle, but he gave his silent consent by refraining from voicing any complaints. The cook gasped at the strange sensation of a finger slipping inside him to begin a slow thrust. His mind wanted to reject the foreign intrusion and classify it as unnatural, but he knew logically that he had been spread much wider by the average shit—this was a confusingly erotic circumstance by contrast, and he was prematurely glad it was less painful than expected.
When a second finger followed the first, he was less aroused and more focused on the sudden, painful stretch. “Goddammit, I really wish we had lube,” he complained, squirming in discomfort as Zoro’s fingers scissored inside his opening.
“Sorry. It’ll be better next time, I promise.”
“Tch. Somebody’s overly-confident there’s going to be a next time.”
“Just you wait, Cook. We’re only getting started,” he replied with a wicked grin.
His fingers continued thrusting, twisting, and stretching with gentle motions. The pain was slowly beginning to lessen and was soon replaced by an odd sense of tranquility at the repetitive motions. It was kind of relaxing to just lie there on the beach while the swordsman dropped wet kisses along his stomach and thighs while fucking him with his fingers. The blond almost didn’t notice the sting of the third intrusion.
“Are you nearly done? I can feel my erection fading faster by the minu—ah! Mmpfh!”
Sanji had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep from crying out at the unexpected sensation that coursed through him when Zoro pressed against a particularly sensitive section of his inner wall. Little shocks of pleasure continued to shake him as the swordsman repeated the action, grinning in triumph at having elicited this response. He started pumping into the cook with a slightly faster pace, spreading his ass as wide as it would go with those three fingers.
Zoro leaned over him, supporting himself with one hand braced beside the cook’s face, and pressed their lips together in a surprisingly sweet kiss. Sanji could taste the saltiness of his own come and shuddered slightly at the thought. It wasn’t that he was disgusted—on the contrary, he was aroused by the realization that he actually wanted to taste more.
He wanted to taste Zoro’s.
“So,” the swordsman began, breaking their kiss and staring down into Sanji’s eye, “how opposed are you to putting my dick in your mouth, Cook?”
Sanji let out a short, barking laugh. “Okay, first, that was the most awkward and forced possible way of asking me for a blowjob, and second, does observation Haki allow you to read my mind?”
“That sounds like a yes.”
“I may not know much about sex between men, but since we obviously don’t have any lube, I’ll have to suck you thoroughly if I don’t want this to completely suck for me.”
Zoro mirrored his hearty laugh, dragging the blond to his knees and standing in front of him. “Nicely put—go ahead and wet it good, Curly-brows.”
Sanji stared at the cock in front of him with surreal detachment, taking in its blood-flushed appearance, thick veins, and slowly weeping tip. He was mesmerized by its girth and darker skin tone because the only dick he had ever seen so up close and personal was his own, and Zoro’s was so very different. That hardly surprised the cook with their contrasting body types and diametrically opposing personalities.
When he took the swordsman’s length into his mouth and began imitating the movements that had been performed on him, he was reminded by Zoro’s moan of appreciation that they were the same in just as many ways as they were different. The reactions he was drawing from the other man were as equally intense as his own, and it was immensely satisfying to witness the great Roronoa Zoro coming undone by the talented mouth of the ship’s cook.
“F-fuck, Sanji. You seriously never done this before?” he asked with a pleased groan.
The blond was sucking him mercilessly in random intervals of agonizing slowness and complete abandon. He managed to draw a surprised gasp from Zoro when he drew his tongue deceivingly slowly along the shaft before cupping his lips around the head, attacking the slit with hard strokes of wet muscle, and sucking hard.
Zoro’s fingers slid roughly into the blond locks, pulling Sanji’s mouth off of his cock with an obscene popping sound. He stared down at the cook’s infuriatingly smug smirk with heat-flushed cheeks and a dark, reluctantly impressed expression. “You’re supposed to be wetting my dick, not sucking it dry—you’ll end up choking on my come at this rate. Show some restraint, you slut.”
Although the cook should have flown off the handle and kicked in Idiot-swordsman’s skull for calling him that, he recognized it as an attempt to repudiate his own inferiority, and Sanji was a big enough bastard that he wasn’t going to miss the chance to rub Zoro’s face in it.
“Aww, is the Marimo upset because it’s my first time, and I’m already better at it than you? Don’t feel too bad, Shitty-swordsman—I’ve always had an oral fixation.”
Zoro’s eyebrow twitched, his grip on Sanji’s hair becoming painful, but he just clenched his teeth and thrust back into the cook’s waiting mouth with an irritated scowl. “You’re fucking lucky this filthy mouth is so useful, or I’d kick your ass right here and drown you in the ocean!”
This response somehow sounded sexy to the cook’s ears which meant that the two of them had entered truly dangerous territory—if even death threats from the swordsman had become a turn on, they were going to have a serious problem in the morning. Both men were obviously getting really into this—it wasn’t just two pirates blowing off steam or relieving a bit of sexual tension. Sanji could feel his hunger for the other man growing even while he choked on Zoro’s cock as his mouth was fucked with increasing vigor. The blond tried to make it sloppy, coating every inch of the swordsman’s length with saliva since he knew it was about to be shoved inside him.
Before he could psyche himself out, Sanji leaned back and gave Zoro a meaningful look. The swordsman nodded and shifted to kneel in front of the cook, pulling them flush with chests pressed together and attacking his mouth in their fiercest kiss yet. Heat flooded through Sanji’s entire body as the clashing of their lips and tongues intensified until he was literally gasping and panting into the swordsman’s mouth. The added friction between their erections was so deliciously good it was becoming rather painful. He found himself wondering why they hadn’t had sex sooner—it would have been a welcomed addition to their normal routine of arguing, exchanging witty banter, and fighting like cats and dogs.
“Do you wanna be on all fours or on your back?” Zoro asked as he ravished the blond’s blushing torso.
“I uh…I guess…fuck—it doesn’t matter, just choose!”
Sanji was beyond being able to form a coherent thought at this point. His cock ached for more attention, and he already felt like he needed to come again, so he wanted nothing more than for Zoro to fuck him so he could reach that sweet release.
Zoro complied wordlessly, lowering the cook onto his back and trailing insistent hands over his quivering thighs. Sanji lifted them and brought his knees to his chest, shoving away the lingering embarrassment he felt at exposing himself so shamelessly. He only had the sense to care for about 0.5 seconds before the head of Zoro’s cock nudged his entrance, and all he could think was this is it—this was really about to happen. Fuck, just hurry up and do it! he thought desperately, gripping his own cock and pumping it lazily. He couldn’t take the neglect anymore, and Zoro certainly wasn’t complaining.
He could feel the swordsman’s gaze burning him as the blond touched himself, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide with lust as he carefully pushed past the loosened ring of muscle to seat himself inside the cook. Sanji managed to withhold his gasp this time even though he felt a stinging stretch and complete fullness like nothing he ever experienced before. Tears sprang to his eyes at the painful sensation, but he knew he could easily bear with it until his body adjusted.
“Oh fuck, you feel so good, Sanji. Don’t move yet—ah—and don’t flex like that. Sh-shit!”
The blond watched Zoro’s face in fascination as he took the time to adjust to Sanji as well. His cheeks were flushed, sweat beading on his forehead and running down his neck in glistening trails that made his skin shine beautifully. It was a sight to behold to say the least, and Sanji found himself wondering for the second time what had taken them so long to reach this point—no doubt it was because of their stubborn pride, coupled with the fear of rejection, and the possibility that their relationship as nakama could be at risk.
“Are you okay, Cook? I won’t move until you tell me to,” Zoro said shakily.
It looked like absolute torture to stay so still when he clearly wanted to slam into the blond over and over again without holding back, but the swordsman was determined to give Sanji a chance to feel good, too. Any remaining shred of doubt left the cook’s mind at this considerate sentiment, and he nearly gave in to his sudden desire to tell Zoro to go ahead and pound him into the sand, but he knew he would most certainly regret his impatience in the morning.
“I’m good. Give me a reason to want to do this again—if you think you’re up for it,” he challenged with a fiery grin.
Zoro mirrored his smile and pulled back immediately, gripping the blond by the waist and thrusting in with a snap of his hips. He repeated the motion slowly at first, eyes screwed shut as he focused on maintaining a gentle pace. Once Sanji began to feel accustomed to the pain and pressure, he tried to rock his hips in time with the swordsman’s thrusts to let him know that it was okay to move faster. Zoro responded with enthusiasm, thrusting deeper and deeper until Sanji was gasping again and clutching blindly at his broad shoulders.
“Sh-shit! Oh, Godfuckingdammit…Zoro, f-fuck yeah…ha...ngh!” he panted, tensing at the sudden pleasure of having his prostate pounded at the perfect angle. Although he didn’t manage to get out the word “harder,” Zoro immediately knew what he was asking for and began to mercilessly slam into him with deep, unrelenting thrusts. Sanji cried out, unable to contain the burst of sound or control the way his back arched beneath the swordsman’s bulk. He could feel his own precome dripping onto his abs as his cock brushed periodically against Zoro’s toned stomach. Heat exploded in his gut as his prostate was stimulated again and again until his mind went numb and his vision blurred.
“I need…to come...make me come, Zoro—mmm!” He had to grit his teeth as the swordsman shifted their position, raising Sanji’s hips as he leaned over him and found his balance with one arm, the other moving between their sweat-slicked bodies to grip the blond’s dripping cock and jerk it as best as he could with the increasingly erratic motion of his thrusts.
“I’m close, too. Sh-should I…?”
Sanji shook his head, horrified by the thought of Zoro pulling out when it felt so fucking good! He desperately wanted to see the swordsman’s face when he came inside him which was a fairly irrational desire considering how suddenly this had happened. Sanji had never even thought about the reality of having sex with a man—over time he had come to realize that he wasn’t necessarily opposed to the idea, but even in his most private thoughts, when he had entertained the slight possibility of being intimate with the swordsman who caught his interest, he hadn’t specifically considered the logistics of it all.
In his current state of utter bliss and shameless lust, there was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to feel Zoro’s cock throbbing inside him and filling him with hot come. He smashed their mouths together and moaned with abandon as he reached his climax and spilled over Zoro’s hand, coating their stomachs in thick streams that added to the sliding friction of their sweaty bodies. Zoro faltered in pumping Sanji’s twitching cock as he reached his own orgasm seconds later, slamming into the cook one final time and unloading inside him with an unexpectedly vocal moan that sounded a lot like Sanji’s name.
There was a moment afterwards when they clung to each other as the post-orgasm fatigue seeped into their bones before collapsing in the sand, equally spent. Sanji stared up at the starry sky and worked on gathering his wits as he lay on his back next to Zoro. The swordsman was yawning as if he were about to fall asleep right there on the public beach regardless of his sticky state of undress.
“Oi, Marimo—don’t you dare fall asleep like that! We need to move our asses before somebody sees us!” he hissed, suddenly very aware of the fact that they just had sex in complete view of anyone who happened to wander away from the party and looked down over the hill.
“Don’t be such a buzzkill, Cook. Somebody probably already saw—attracted here by all the noise you were making. Give me a second to catch my breath, will you?”
Sanji kicked him viciously in the side, instantly regretting the action when a sharp pain flared up his spine. “Goddammit! That’s gonna fucking sting tomorrow. Never again—wetter is better,” he lamented, shifting in a futile attempt to find a more comfortable position.
Zoro reached over and rolled the blond towards him, plucking his t-shirt from where it had stuck to Sanji’s back and draping it lazily over their waists. He ignored the cook’s indignant flailing and hiss of annoyance at being manhandled, dragging the blond onto his chest and idly rubbing circles into the base of his spine. Sanji melted against him, too grateful for the welcome massage to complain about the fact that a single crumpled t-shirt would not be enough to preserve their dignity should somebody spot them on the beach.
“You don’t really think we were seen, do you?” he asked, flushing in embarrassment at the thought of someone accidentally witnessing such an indecent display.
Zoro shrugged and let out another yawn, completely unconcerned. “I don’t know, but I doubt anyone will be surprised after our intimate dance performance.”
“I hope Robin-chan is the only one who sensed the sexual tension. What am I going to do if all the beautiful ladies on the island think I’m unavailable because of you, Moss-head?”
Zoro growled and instantly stopped massaging Sanji’s lower back. “Go back to fawning all over them like you usually do—see if I care,” he muttered darkly.
Sanji laughed and propped himself up on his elbows to look down at the swordsman’s intense scowl. “We fuck one time, and suddenly you think you can be all possessive and shit? Not likely, asshole. I will always give women the love and care they deserve, and nothing’s gonna stop me from treating them with the utmost respect.”
Zoro rolled Sanji off him and reached for his discarded pants, yanking them on in silence. The blond redressed as quickly as he could so he could follow the jaded swordsman back up the hill towards the distant sound of music and merriment.
“Hey, no need to be so grumpy, Marimo—that was fun,” he said casually, watching in amusement as the swordsman’s muscles tensed at his words.
An angry crease formed on Zoro’s brow when he turned to stoically reply, “Yeah, thanks.”
“If you’re pissed about what I said, you should know that I’m not gonna sleep with any of those women. As crazy as this might sound coming from me, I think you’d be more than enough—if you’ll have me.”
Zoro froze in his stride and shot him a suspicious, borderline incredulous look. “Seriously? The insufferable ladies' man is gonna give up women for the Shitty-swordsman? Don't make me laugh,” he snapped bitterly, resuming his stiff walk though he still paused at the top of the hill to wait for the cook to catch up. Sanji dug into his suit pocket for his cigarettes and lighter as he slowly walked to meet him, popping one between his lips and lighting it quickly. He sucked in a long breath of calming nicotine in preparation for what he was about to say, blowing the smoke off to the side and facing the swordsman with his free hand shoved in his pant pocket.
“I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen, Zoro—I couldn’t even if I wanted to. It was…well...I’ve never experienced anything like it, okay?. There’s no way a woman can give me that, not to mention be my sparring partner and tolerate my insults the way you do. I’ll never have that kind of rough and honest relationship with any of them. It’s actually kind of messed-up that it took you fucking my brains out for me to realize it, but it’s painfully obvious now that I have.” Zoro just started at him with wide eyes, not even the least bit inclined to interrupt for once. “We’re pirates—our life is short, and I can’t realistically see myself settling down with some girl and having a bunch of kids like I used to fantasize about when I was younger. I want a life of adventure—I want to find the All Blue, and I know that you’ll be there when I do. Hell, I’ll probably be there to see you surpass Mihawk or die trying, so…I mean, is it totally crazy to think this could work because we’re both equally stubborn bastards chasing after insane dreams?”
“Holy shit...y-you actually mean it,” Zoro realized, meeting Sanji’s gaze without any hesitation now. “I don’t think that sounds crazy at all—I thought I was the crazy one for thinking two people as different as us could be what’s best for each other. Fuck, it sounds so stupid—saying that out loud like I’m in love with you or something,” he muttered awkwardly.
Sanji smirked around his cigarette, removing it so he could bring his lips closer to the swordsman’s. “Try not to fall too hard for me—guys with dreams like ours tend to die young, and I wouldn’t want you to miss me too badly,” he said mockingly.
“Tch. Now who’s the overconfident one? Who says I’d miss your annoying ass at all?”
“Oh really?” Sanji asked slyly. He pressed himself firmly against the swordsman, letting his cigarette fall to the ground and be forgotten. They shared a quick, passionate kiss that settled the matter entirely—this wasn’t going to be a one-time fling. Neither of them were the type of man who could give up on something they really wanted.
“I guess I might miss your cooking,” Zoro conceded with a smirk.
“I knew it—you love my cooking even if you’re always shit-talking it!” Sanji teased. “I think you’ve definitely earned something to eat after that vigorous workout. Why don’t we head back to the ship and take a nice, long shower? Then I’ll make us something to eat, and after that…”
“Then what?” the swordsman asked eagerly, catching onto Sanji’s implication of the sort of activities a long shower might entail—he was fully prepared to take the blond up on that offer.
“We can rejoin the party if you aren’t too exhausted,” he suggested.
Zoro drew Sanji closer, pretending to think it over as they held each other in a firm embrace. “Alright, Cook…but only if you dance with me.”
“Deal.”
The End <3