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It had been two whole days since they’d had the luxury of being relatively alone, and as a result Sanji hadn’t so much as touched Zoro inappropriately. For such a taciturn man, Zoro was surprisingly stubborn about undue exposure to the younger members of the crew (especially Chopper). Thus, the no-touching rule was now in place; in public, anyway, and Sanji’d done his level best to obey. He didn’t want to scar the young reindeer in any way either, but enough was enough.

Zoro had been training on the deck all morning, and the midday sun made his tanned skin positively glisten. He’d removed everything but his pants, and the sheen of sweat only accentuated his well-toned torso, his lean calves and sturdy thighs.

Sanji’s fingers itched to touch.

Tearing his gaze away from the porthole, he took to scrubbing the morning’s dishes with ruthless vigor, determinedly ignoring the swordsman and the distraction he represented. His mind churning with plausible scenarios, Sanji quickly finished up and moved to dry his hands.

As he hung the towel back up, a wicked grin spread across his face. It was perfect. Now, to find the right moment…


Zoro wiped sweat off of his forehead with a small towel, and dragged it along his arms quickly after. Damn, it’s hot, he thought wryly, sluicing himself relatively dry.

Moving to put away his weights, Zoro turned his feet toward the inner decks. He moved on autopilot, steadily striding toward the galley where he would hopefully be able to get a nice cold glass of water.

Depends on what kind of mood the shit-cook is in, Zoro mused, enjoying the refreshing shade as he stepped out of the sun. Damn cook has been antsy for a couple days. Moody, too.

Silently shrugging, Zoro took the last couple of steps into the galley, mentally bracing himself for whatever awaited him inside.

When only silence greeted him, Zoro glanced through the galley to find it empty. With no sign of the ever-present blonde, Zoro headed straight for the sink. He pulled a glass from the cupboard and ran the water for a few seconds, letting it cool. Once it was as cold as it was probably going to get, he filled the glass and knocked it back, swallowing all of the cool liquid in several large gulps. He was heedless of the drops that escaped and cascaded down his overheated skin, a soothing balm to his parched throat.

Sighing in satisfaction, Zoro put the glass underneath the flow to fill it again when a familiar pale hand shot out from his right and shut off the water. Turning quickly, he saw a flash of gold as the glass was removed from his hand and placed on the counter before he felt a tug on his elbow, dragging him over to the pantry.

The door slammed shut, and Sanji swiftly kicked a couple barrels of booze in front of it, keeping it closed.

“What the hell?!” Zoro exclaimed, squinting as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim room.

“I’m through waiting, marimo.” Sanji’s reply was immediate, and imminently closer. Startled, Zoro moved to step back and knocked against large rice bags on the floor. Letting gravity do most of the work he grabbed for Sanji and twisted them as they fell, landing so the blonde was underneath and covered by his body.

“Waiting for wha – mmph,” Zoro opened his mouth easily to Sanji’s questing tongue. He indulged for a few moments, before pulling away. “Sanji, no.” He hissed, trying to push away, but the cook was having none of it.

Sanji’s legs clamped around Zoro’s waist, ankles crossing at his lower back, and tugged, causing Zoro to sprawl awkwardly against him. Zoro planted his hands on either side of Sanji’s head, holding himself rigid and ignoring the delicious shock of their groins brushing together. Nevertheless, he melted into another kiss, deepening it and moaning when Sanji surged up into him, latching his mouth onto the pulse-point on Zoro’s neck.

“Been watching you all day,” the blonde groaned, licking a path up behind Zoro’s ear and sucking on the sensitive skin he found there. Zoro groaned loudly, resistance melting away and his elbows locking as his eyes closed tightly, breath quickening. “Been wanting to do this, nice and slow,” Sanji slid his hands along Zoro’s back, one moving to the base of his neck to tangle in his hair, and the other dipping underneath his waistline.

“Wanted to – touch – ummph, ” Zoro turned and fit their mouths together, tongues instantly tangling as Sanji angled their heads just right. Zoro’s hands refused to remain idle, and caressed the cook’s sides and stomach, running under his shirt.

Sanji’s fingers ran along the crease of his ass, prodding gently and finding the small opening. Zoro’s breath came in heavy pants, and he buried his face in Sanji’s collarbone. Sanji peppered breathless kisses to his face and neck, the tip of his ear, brushing along a temple. One finger slipped inside and Zoro jerked his hips forward violently, moaning urgently.

“Yes – Zoro, God yes, I - nngh!” They rutted together, short and rough jerks of their hips. The friction was good, but not enough. Sanji’s hands gripped Zoro’s ass, urging them even closer and tugging Zoro’s pants down, bunching them around his knees.

Kissing messily, they fumbled in the dark as knowing hands traversing well-worn paths with ease. Before too long, they were both breathless and desperately close, and Zoro wrapped a warm, calloused hand around Sanji’s cock and gave it a few tight pulls, twisting his wrist at the tip and rubbing his thumb over the slit.

Sanji keened, deep in his throat and came, streaks of pearly-white come landing across Zoro’s chest and pants, and dripping through his fingers. Zoro merely grunted and kissed Sanji deeper, pressing even closer to the other man, his cock hard and heavy against Sanji’s stomach.

Zoro gave him only a few moments to recover, and began to take care of himself. He jerked roughly, without finesse, rushing to the edge. He groaned on each pull, his hand moving faster and faster as he neared completion. Sanji roused himself and swatted his hand away, shimmying down the rice bags to place himself directly under Zoro. He gripped his lover’s hips and pulled him down, Zoro’s cock sliding directly down his throat.

With a guttural moan, Zoro threw his head back, pushing a hand through Sanji’s hair and gripping tight, holding him there. Sanji swallowed him deeper, letting him thrust shallowly, the warm, wet, heat of Sanji’s mouth bringing him quickly to the end. Pulling back, the cook licked away beading pre-come and then suckled the head, swirling his tongue along the grooves, before taking it almost all the way down again.

Zoro tugged urgently on his hair, his breaths coming in heavy pants. “Sanji – enh – close – ”

Sanji hummed, then sucked and Zoro was lost. He came in long spurts, shooting down Sanji’s throat and filling his mouth. Sanji swallowed quickly once, twice, before pulling off the now over-sensitized flesh with a few last licks. Some excess dribbled down his chin, and Zoro whimpered, leaning in and licking it off. Sanji caught his mouth in a slow kiss, sharing his taste between them. Zoro slumped against him, half-heartedly tugging his pants up and letting his full weight pin Sanji down as they traded soft kisses back and forth.

A few silent minutes went by, as their breathing returned to normal. Zoro is the first to break the calm.

“We should move,” he mumbles into Sanji’s shirt, though it comes out sounding more like a question. Sanji hums noncommittally, his supposed agreement belied by his arms coming around Zoro to hold him close. The swordsman makes no move to leave either, and instead settles himself more comfortably against the other man with a soft noise of content. He maneuvers his head so his face rests in the crook of Sanji’s neck, exhaling quietly. Before too long, snores echo around the small room, bringing a fond smile to Sanji’s face.

They have a few minutes, at least, before they’re needed elsewhere. There’s time enough for this.

Breathing deeply, Sanji closes his eyes and lets sleep overtake him.