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Bedroom Eyes & Butterflies

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“Um,” Usopp stutters. Around him, the table has gone deathly silent, save for the sound of Luffy’s enthusiastic chewing. 

“Wait—” Nami starts. She blinks hard. “Weren’t you just flirting with me? ” 

The tall blonde waiter with the weird curly eyebrow bats his eyes like he's a butterfly and they're his wings. He smiles like Nami directing a question at him is the best thing to ever happen to him in his entire life. “Why, yes, my precious angel. How could I be so blind to your beauty?” 

“But—” Nami stammers and splutters. She looks to Zoro for help, waving her hands meaninglessly in the air. Zoro shrugs and continues to eat. Nami croaks, “Okay but— Usopp?” 

“H-hey! I’m plenty attractive! But… um, yeah… me? ” He squeaks, pointing at himself and then to Nami and then to the waiter, whose name is apparently Sanji. 

Sanji turns his attention to Usopp with an expression that can only be called seductive. Usopp turns pink in the face and makes a sound like a mouse that’s just been stepped on. “ Mademoiselle, your beauty cannot be denied, but your blushing companion is positively adorable in his own right. Might I ask your name?” There, in the middle of the restaurant, the waiter kneels  and pulls out a rose. 

Zoro spews wine like a leaky faucet across the table. Usopp falls out of his chair and flat on his ass, seemingly dead of a spontaneous heart-combustion. Nami puts her head in her hands and groans like she’s dying while Luffy takes the opportunity available and starts stealing the food right off her plate.  

Eggplant! Stop harassing the damn customers!” The old man with the incredible mustache and the incredible hat shouts. 

Shitty geezer! ” The waiter hollers back. In a normal voice he comments, "I'll be back with your entrees," before stalking off in a rage.

“I like him!” Luffy announces. 


That’s where it starts but it is by no means where it ends. As the crew comes to find, their newest member, Sanji, flirts with anyone that breathes and walks on two legs... with the notable exception of Zoro, which the rest of the crew finds hilarious. 

Sanji dotes on Nami and Vivi and even occasionally supplies Usopp with a thoughtful mid-day snack and a wink or an eyebrow wiggle. Sanji’s affection for Luffy is unrivaled, given the sheer amount of food the man cooks day in and day out for the bottomless pit that is their captain. It’s impossible to miss the dopey expression on the cook’s face when he sees Luffy enjoying a meal in only the way Luffy does. 

But Zoro? 

Sanji seems to hate Zoro. 


“Idiot Moss-brained fucking moron!” Sanji shouts as the sole of his shoe collides with Zoro’s swords. 

Nami slowly sips her afternoon iced-tea and watches them clash over the brim of her sunglasses. Chopper sighs where he’s seated in the lawn chair next to Nami, nose buried in a medical tome. On the deck between their two chairs, Luffy is sprawled out on his stomach, sound asleep in the sun like a rubbery cat, entirely undisturbed. Usopp sighs and recasts his fishing lure. 

“At least I’m not a man-whore that bleeds out anytime someone with an ass walks by!” Zoro shouts back. 

Sanji starts to cackle in full, doubled-over belly laughs. “Jealous much? If you wanted me to look your way, all you had to do was ask—” 

Which is followed swiftly by, “ Get the FUCK away from me, you probably have diseases—”

And, “ Fuck you, at least I get laid!” 

“Nami?” Chopper asks, blue nose peeking out over the top of the massive book in his hands. “What’s ‘laid’?” 

Nami chokes on her tea.


Sanji seems to flirt and fuck his way through every inhabited island the crew docks at. And it’s fine, it’s just one of his quirks. Neither Nami nor Vivi take his flirting seriously, Luffy is oblivious, and Usopp has made it very clear to which gender his loyalty lies (though he does blush something fierce every time Sanji throws a compliment his way.)  

After Drum and on the way too Alabasta, the crew docks on a small Spring island with a population of three hundred or so. The inhabitants live in dome-like structures made out of straw and a concrete-like substance. Their cuisine is a combination of seafood and a sweet bird-meat from a species native to the island. The log pose takes about two days to set, giving the crew an opportunity for a long, lazy weekend right before setting upon the desert kingdom. 

Upon the news of the delay, Vivi is anxious and withdrawn. Nami takes it upon herself to cheer the other woman up and they quickly disappear into the town market, leaving the rest of the crew parked at a bar not too far from the shore. 

“Hey, hey!” Luffy shouts, shaking the table as he stretches his torso across the booth in order to catch the attention of a barmaid. “I want more of this bird stuff!” He waves his empty plate in the air, cheeks bulging with half-chewed food. 

Sanji quickly smacks him upside the head. 

“What he means is may we please have another round of food and drink for the table, Miss?” Sanji bats his eyes slow and lazy at the barmaid. She’s a tall and muscular red-head with short, cropped hair and an androgynous face. A vine-like tattoo in black snakes its way out from under her shirt collar up the side of her neck, wrapping behind her ear. She’s probably just a little older than Sanji and Zoro... maybe in her early twenties or so. She looks more like the bar's theft-prevention than a waitress. She's almost... grizzled. 

“Sure thing, Babes,” she replies, smiling at Sanji. 

Sanji makes a sound like a kicked donkey.

“Fucking idiot,” Zoro grumbles, rolling his eyes and throwing back the rest of his drink to hide how genuinely surprised he is that a woman who appears to have so much dignity is flirting back with the damn idiot. 

The barmaid steps away towards the kitchen and Sanji just about leaps to his feet in order to scramble out of the circular booth after her. In his haste, he nearly trips over Luffy, who has elongated his torso across the table yet again in a not-so-subtle attempt to steal food right off of Usopp’s plate. Long legs flail everywhere for a perilous moment before Sanji’s foot comes down accidentally on Zoro’s thigh. 

Hey!” Zoro lurches in his seat at the unexpected burst of pain and outright shoves Sanji out of the booth. 

“Stupid, classless fucking Marimo bastard—” To everyone’s surprise, Sanji’s intense tide of fury fizzles out as a hand extends to help him up off the floor. It’s the barmaid.

“Need a hand?” She's laughing, but not in a mean-spirited way. 

In an instant, Sanji’s entire demeanor changes. He is every inch the cool, suave cook they met back that first day on the Baratie.

“From you? It would be an honor.” 

Usopp’s jaw hits the table with a thud. 

The waitress pulls Sanji to his feet and he gracefully offers his arm once he’s standing. 

“Oh my,” the barmaid laughs and sets down the tray of food and beer, to Luffy’s immense delight. Once her hands are free, she takes the offered arm and unties her apron with a free hand. “Lou! I’m taking the night off!” 

An older woman grunts out a response from behind the counter. 

“No fucking way,” Usopp hisses. “How the hell did he do that? He literally just ate it in the middle of the place. He landed on his ass and everything and he still gets to go home with someone?" His eyes are wild and he flails. "She looks like should could snap him in half! What does she want with Sanji of all people?" He slides down further in his seat, boneless with despair. “I’m doomed. I’m pathetic. How does Sanji have more game than me?” 

“Game?” Luffy pauses mid-swallow to chime in, “What game are we playing?” 

“The game of love, Captain,” Sanji remarks, passing his lit cigarette to his companion who laughs and takes a drag herself. “I’ll be back in the morning to make breakfast.” 

“I dunno, will you? You’re pretty damn cute for a pirate,” The barmaid replies as they start to leave. 

“Jesus,” Zoro whispers. 

“I didn’t know love was a game,” Chopper comments idly. 

“Yeah and I’m losing,” Usopp moans. 

As Sanji and his date exit the bar, the cook turns and shoots a not-insignificant look back at the table. He winks at the crew. 

“Mother fucker,” Zoro hisses. 


They sail on to Alabasta and there, they meet Luffy’s older brother. 

It becomes immediately clear to the crew that Sanji is enamored. He blushes and stutters his way through the afternoon, nearly dropping dishes on the floor when Ace sends him a smolder across the table. 

“How.” Usopp deadpans, “How are there two of them?” Across the deck, Sanji and Ace seem to be chatting amicably by the rail. It becomes immediately clear that it’s more than that when Ace slings a (beautifully muscular, Usopp is not blind, okay?) arm over the cook’s shoulders and leans in close to whisper something to him. Sanji turns red from head to toe and bites his lip. 

Usopp throws his arms in the air with an exasperated shout. Vivi sighs where she stands beside Nami. 

“I mean, I can’t hardly blame Sanji-kun,” Nami says appreciatively. “Luffy’s brother is surprisingly attractive. I’m not even into men and I could—”

“Okay!” Vivi interrupts, turning pink. “Let’s not do details.”

“What ya guys talking about?” Luffy asks, sidling up to the group with his hands in his pockets. 

“Sanji and your brother are gonna bang,” Usopp says. 

“Gross,” Luffy comments, sticking a finger in his nose, but looking otherwise unconcerned. 

“Are you gonna do something about it?” Usopp wonders. 

“Nah. Why would I?” 

“Well… It’s kinda weird, isn’t it?” Usopp remarks, watching Sanji reverently touch Ace’s tattoo on his (admittedly very impressive) freckled bicep. “Your older brother and a crew-mate… doing the nasty.”

Nami wrinkles her nose. “Don’t say ‘doing the nasty’."

“Sorry, sorry. Uh, how about getting their freak on?” 

“That’s not better.”

“Doing the horizontal tango—”

Okay, Usopp!” Nami swats him with a rolled-up newspaper she and Vivi had been searching for clues as to the rebellion army’s location. “We get it!” 

Luffy stops picking his nose to reply, “Nah. They’re both their own people, aren’t they? They’re fine. Ace and Sanji can take care of themselves!” 

Sanji says something to Ace and both men turn to acknowledge the assembled gaggle of onlookers. Sanji leans against the rail of the ship and crosses his legs at the ankle. Ace smiles and waves. Sanji wiggles his one visible eyebrow. 

"What a smug--" Usopp huffs. 

Zoro, uncharacteristically quiet, nods in sage assent.


Later that afternoon, while Sanji is distracted with lunch preparations and Luffy’s older brother, Zoro sneaks into the storage room to try and lift a bottle of sake. Slinking through the halls, he hears an unexpected muffled thump, like something hitting the ground. Then, h e hears something that sounds like, “yeah, baby” or “you're, crazy” in an unfamiliar voice coming quietly from beyond the door. Not really thinking about it, Zoro quietly turns the handle and peeks into the room. 

Sanji is on his knees in front of Luffy’s older brother. Said older brother has one hand in Sanji’s hair and one gripping the barrel of rice he’s leaning against for support. His face is pink and his eyes are closed. Move, you idiot, Zoro’s brain helpfully supplies as Sanji’s head bobs rhythmically up and down between Ace’s legs. Move. 

“Yeah, baby, just like that. Do that with your tongue again, that’s—” Ace sighs and adjusts his grip on Sanji’s hair. Sanji moans and at that, Ace’s eyes flicker open. 

Time stops. 

Ace notices Zoro watching in the doorway like a fucking pervert. Zoro watches Ace watching Zoro watch. Move! Now is the time to absolutely get the fuck out! Zoro’s brain screams. He remains rooted to the ground. 

“Uh,” Ace supplies. Sanji makes a concerned sound around the dick in his mouth, Jesus fuck— and Zoro’s brain helpfully comes back online.  

“NOPE!” he shouts, slamming the door closed behind him and fucking booking it towards the deck. Maybe if he can jump straight into the ocean, he can drown the image out of his head. 


“I hate you.” Sanji hisses. “I seriously fucking hate you so much.” The desert heat looms heavily down on them. The only sound is the shuffling of many feet in the sand and the drag from Zoro pulling chopper across the sand in a makeshift sleigh. 

They hadn’t talked since the Incident. There just hadn’t been time. Now, Sanji is walking next to Zoro through the desert, following steadily in the wake of Vivi and Nami on the camel and taking full advantage of the opportunity to make his opinion known. Luffy and Ace are catching up amicably at the end of the line with Usopp not too far behind. 

“I hate you, too.” Zoro growls. He’s too damn sweaty to have a better response. 


They camp in the (surprisingly freezing cold at night) desert and Zoro gets up halfway through the night to piss. He hears something odd, almost like slapping and a muffled voice, and he creeps around the side of the girl’s tent, behind the little gathering of dark, jagged boulders and—- 

Oh hell no!” 

Goddamn it, Zoro! I’m going to fucking kill you!” Sanji whisper-screams, frantically searching in the sand for his pants.

“Oh damn,” Ace curses, “Sanji-san, where did I put my hat?” 

Zoro groans into his hands, trying to push the image of Sanji riding Luffy’s older brother’s cock out of his goddamn mind— 

“Why do bad things happen to good people?” Zoro laments, waiting for his brain to recover enough that he can move again. 

“I’ll show you a bad thing,” Sanji growls, finally buttoning his pants and making to charge at Zoro like a furious bull. 


The commotion of Zoro and Sanji fighting to the death just outside of the ragtag camp eventually wakes the rest of the crew. 

“Okay,” a clearly-exhausted Nami sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose like it’ll do anything to mitigate the headache she’s going to have tomorrow. “New rule. Sanji?” 

“Yes, mellorine?” 

“Stop having sex anywhere else besides safely behind a locked door.” 

“But—”

“Zoro? When you hear strange noises, for the love of belli, stop going to investigate. Ace? For as long as you are traveling with us, you will not be taking watch with Sanji.” 

“My apologies, Navigator-San.” Ace apologies with a formal bow and a small, abashed smile. 

Nami sighs and gestures vaguely. “See how polite he is? Would it kill you to learn something from him?” 

Usopp opens his mouth.

“Usopp,” Nami interjects with venom in her voice. “I swear if the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with ‘rubbing off on each other’ I will kick you into the stratosphere.” 

Usopp closes his mouth. 


Sanji loves Robin. Not that Sanji didn’t love Nami or Vivi, no, he definitely loves Nami and Vivi, too. But his relationship with Robin is a little bit… more. When he dotes on her and flirts with her, Robin plays into it, smiling and batting her eyes right back at him. Sanji’s bones turn to jello every time she does it and he swoons away in a cloud of hearts and pheromones. 

Sanji brings her an afternoon snack and Robin air-kisses both his cheeks in thanks. Sanji makes her morning tea and they sit and chat like old friends while each sipping from a cup. When they dock on inhabited islands, Usopp swears he has seen Robin and Sanji sitting together in restaurants or coffee shops or wineries or bookstores, people-watching and talking in low voices back and forth. 

“They’re in a relationship, I swear,” Usopp hisses, tucked away with Nami, Zoro, and Luffy in the tangerine grove. 

“No way,” Nami says. “Robin is like… way older than him. That’s weird.” 

“Also, Robin has class. There’s no way she’d date the shit-cook,” Zoro grumbles, not even bothering to open his eyes. He had been leaning against the base of a tree mid-doze when Usopp had brought Nami and Luffy to him in a Super Secret Emergency Meeting. 

“Well how else do you explain the dates out on inhabited islands? The morning coffee or tea that none of us ever get invited to? All the treats he makes for her? And the weird air kisses?” Usopp counts off each instance on his fingers. 

“He makes special treats for everyone, Usopp…” Nami comments. “But, well. The air-kisses are kinda odd.”

Usopp makes some incomprehensible gestures and nods frantically as if to say, “Right?!” 

“They can’t be,” Zoro swears, actually opening his eyes for the first time since the conversation began. “They absolutely cannot be.” 

“They must be!” Usopp whisper-shouts. 

“Ew,” Nami shudders. 

“No. They cannot be dating.” Zoro says decisively. 

“Yeah, you guys are silly!” Luffy finally pipes in. Instantly, all three other members of the Secret-Emergency-Meeting-Brigade shush him. Where everyone else had been whispering (albeit passionately) Luffy makes no attempts to moderate his volume. “Of course they’re not a couple!” 

What.” Usopp deadpans, practically vibrating in place with frustration. 

“He’s right, Longnose-san,” a mouth sprouting on a tree trunk remarks in a burst of flower petals. 

Nami and Usopp scream and jump about a foot in the air, crashing into each other and clutching at each other’s arms in sheer terror. (Even Zoro flinches). The only one not surprised is Luffy, who begins to snicker. 

“The cook and I are by no means in a romantic or sexual relationship,” the disembodied mouth comments, sounding faintly amused. 

“Then what’s going on between you two, then?” Zoro glowers at the mouth. Usopp and Nami are still recovering from near cardiac arrest and remain silent. 

“We simply have a mutual appreciation for the inherent beauty and eroticism of the human form. Our friendship is purely platonic in nature."

There’s a significant pause. Luffy starts fiddling with the ears that are decorating the tree behind him. Robin allows it, sometimes disappearing and reappearing them in other places to avoid his probing hands, but never once reprimanding him. 

“Wait.” Usopp says, slowly unfurling from his terror-clenched state. “You mean to tell me that all of the dates and the late night and early morning chats were just… you two checking out random people together?!” 

“That could be one way to put it, yes,” the mouth smiles. 

“Sanji says ‘bi-solitare’, or whatever,” Luffy says, shrugging and smiling like a psychopath at an eye that’s peering down at the assembled Secret-Emergency-Meeting-Brigade from a branch above them. 

“The phrase is ‘bi-solidarity’, Captain-san,” The mouth calmly corrects before vanishing in a flurry of petals. With it disappears the ears and eye, too. 

There’s a moment of silence. 

“Weird,” Usopp says, flopping over boneless and defeated into the grass.


Usopp catches Sanji making out with a tall, blonde girl from the Foxy-crew during the Davy-Back festival. He wandered off to buy himself some kettle corn in the hopes that Luffy wouldn’t completely demolish the entire thing and he could actually try some, thanks, when he heard the unmistakable sound of the cook’s sultry I’m-seducing-you voice and a woman giggling. 

In an immediate violation of the Zoro-inspired rule about investigating strange, possibly sexual-sounds, Usopp follows the noise to the space between two different vendors of Davy Back merchandise. 

“Sanji!” He scolds, putting on his best impression of a disappointed Nami. “They’re our enemies!” 

The girl with her legs around Sanji’s waist and his arms braced under her thighs gasps and blushes something furious. Sanji tightens his grip on her waist and she squeaks. He glares daggers at Usopp. 

“Ruby-chwan is just lovely, Usopp. I suggest you fuck off, now.” With that, Sanji turns his attention back to the girl and starts doing something with his tongue on her neck and— 

“Grosssss,” Usopp whines, stomping off. 

A little ways away, Usopp gets an idea. If he sends Zoro wandering off in their direction under the pretense of “ they have great sake, go check it out” well. No one has to know. 

(Sanji can definitely do better than anyone on Foxy’s crew. Usopp’s just looking out for his nakama.) 


During the dodge ball fight, a gaggle of squealing girls on Foxy’s crew ask Sanji very politely if they might hit him. Immediately Sanji flings himself to the ground at their feet and spreads out his arms and legs with unbridled enthusiasm. 

“It would be an honor!” He cries with hearts in his eyes and blood dripping from his nose. 

“Goddamn it,” Zoro grumbles, shaking his head as that chick Portia proceeds to bash Sanji as hard as she can in the balls with the dodge ball. “Fucking idiot.” 

“Oh be a man, Zoro. I like a little pain with my pleasure,” Sanji leers later on in response, holding an ice pack to his crotch. 

“Of course you do, fucking bimbo.” 

What. Was. That?” 

"You heard me. Bimbo."


The thing is, and Zoro hates to admit this, Sanji has a surprising amount of game. It seems like he has his pick of the crop on every island they visit. Early in their journey there was that party on Whiskey Peak, that barmaid at that one island, Ace in Alabasta… He had that thing with the dude from Skypiea at the bonfire party, he had a girl in each arm after the Davy Back fight (and made out with one lucky girl during the festival), there was that cook-woman in the G-8 base, and one of the non-evil shiphands on Water 7. 

Hell, all Zoro got on Water 7 was a fucking crop top and an unwanted baby-sitting gig for seven children while Sanji was off learning cooking tricks and getting laid.

And those are only the hook ups that Zoro knows about

(And never once has Sanji really made a pass at him…) 

He’s not mad about it. 

He’s not. 

(Is there something wrong with him?)


Part of Zoro had hoped that the two-year separation would have chilled the cook out a little bit. Maybe he would meet somebody special wherever it was that he was and develop Feelings and stop sleeping around with everyone that blinked… (Zoro couldn’t really decide whether Sanji falling in love with some stranger and becoming monogamous was the ideal situation or the worst possible situation.) 

“Your pining is sickening,” Perona needles him where she’s sprawled out on Zoro’s damn bed. Zoro’s never had a sister… Not even he and Kuina were close like that. They were rivals and there was companionship in that and he will always, always miss her... but that is nothing like the relationship he has with Perona. If this is not what having a little sister is like, Zoro couldn't fucking tell what is. 

She’s perched on his bed in a nest of blankets that she brought from her own room in Mihawk’s castle—( your bed is sooo Spartan and it’s sooo not cute) —reading from a collection of gossip magazines and the latest newspaper while occasionally insulting the shit out of him. 

It’s horrible and annoying, but not wholly unappreciated. 

There’s a sense of routine to it, at least. 

When he’s not sparring or training directly with Mihawk, Perona occupies his time. If Zoro is weight training or meditating, she’s bound to be there complicating things. For all that it’s obnoxious, it is comforting in its own absurd way. She chatters and skims her magazines while he works out and, occasionally, he offers personal details for her to laugh at, criticize, and or rip to shreds. 

Today, he made the mistake of talking about the cook. 

“I’m not—” he hefts a weight and grunts “— pining.”      

“You are,” she sing-songs, wiggling her legs in the pile of blankets she’s made. 

“I’m not.” 

“Why else have you psychoanalyzed and documented all of his sexcapades?” He doesn’t look at her but he can hear her rolling her eyes. 

“I’m not—wait, sexcapades? That’s awful.” 

Perona laughs her horrible, annoying, nails-on-a-chalkboard laugh. “Well you have. You just told me from memory all his hook ups. Methinks I smell a pining idiot.” She sniffs the air. “Yep, smells like sadness and sweaty beef.” 

“You’re fucking disgusting,” he comments, finally investing the energy to glare at her. 


Perona comes with him to Saobody because of course she does. And, obviously,  Sanji flirts with Perona because of course he does. 

“Well, well, well, Marimo,” Sanji breathes out, heavy like silk, strutting towards Perona, all seduction and sinfully long legs. “You didn’t tell me you enjoyed the company of such a wonderful maiden these past two years,” he takes her hand gently and kisses it while making perfect eye contact. 

Perona, the traitorous fuck, lets him. She looks up at Zoro from under her bangs and mouths, “jealous?” at him. 

“Okay, Cook, fuck-off with that,” he growls, dragging Sanji away by the collar like he’s a dog in heat. 

Sanji flicks ash from the butt of his cigarette onto Zoro’s robe. Fucking asshole. Fucking stupidly sexy asshole. 

He doesn’t bother to say goodbye to Perona because that is by no means their relationship. But if she does shout “don't get pregnant!"   at him and he flips her off over his shoulder, no one has to know. 


It’s a while before they have a night to themselves—just the crew and the Sunny and the open ocean. Brook plays a little song to celebrate the calm and Sanji and Robin dance a simple waltz together for what feels like hours (not that Zoro is paying attention or anything.)

He’s surprised to run into the cook later in the kitchen while Sanji is doing something with dough… making bread, maybe? Sanji offers him tea and Zoro grunts... which Sanji takes as a yes, for some reason. Whatever, Zoro drinks it anyways. 

“You’ve gotten stronger,” Sanji offers in the silence as he kneads a large clump of pale dough. 

Zoro pretends that the compliment doesn’t make his blood warm. He returns it without thinking, just because it’s true, undeniably. “You too," he says. It falls quiet again as Sanji continues to work. 

Some instinct in Zoro tells him to go for it, to just say something else already . Not one to question instinct, he does. “Did you enjoy your two years?” What a stupid fucking question.  Sanji hums but doesn’t act as if he’s surprised by the question. His hands keep working the dough. Zoro watches, transfixed. 

“You could say that. I learned lots of valuable things. Got stronger.” His single visible eye briefly meets Zoro’s gaze. Sanji hums again and continues working his sinfully gorgeous hands through the dough. 

“Meet anyone?” What an exceedingly normal question to ask, good job, brain, the voice of Zoro’s consciousness helpfully supplies.  Sanji freezes, just for a second, and then like he never paused, simply continues to work. Zoro catches it. Of course he does.

He doesn’t have time to wonder what that pause means before Sanji responds. “Here and there,” he answers. 

“Anyone special?” 

All Zoro can hear in the space between his question and Sanji’s answer is his own heartbeat. It’s loud and annoying. Sanji slowly looks up from his bread and holds Zoro’s eye with his own. It’s… intense. 

“Nope,” Sanji articulates, popping the ‘p’ like he’s snapping gum. 

“Huh.” Zoro’s mouth feels like it’s on autopilot. He wants to watch Sanji work the bread dough--he wants to watch those hands work--but he can’t tear his eye away from Sanji’s. Sanji doesn’t look away either. 

Then he bites his lip. 

Zoro has seen him use that move on a dozen or more hookups. Zoro fucking knows that move. A lazy heat that’s been building in his gut reaches a boiling fever-pitch. 

“Could you?” he asks. Sanji raises one immaculate eyebrow. Zoro lets the silence stretch, then clarifies. “Could you meet someone special?” 

“Here?” Sanji asks. Zoro nods. Sanji smiles, molasses slow and patient and dripping with sheer sex. “Think I already have.”

Zoro lurches to his feet and grabs Sanji by the tie, pulling him roughly across the counter to meet his own lips in a bruising kiss. Sanji gasps and lets him and it’s the hottest thing Zoro has ever experienced; the cook letting himself be manhandled around like a toy. Sanji’s hands make a wet slap against the counter as he supports himself, half-dragged over the island as he is. His lips— sweet, how the fuck are they sweet?— part easily with no resistance and Zoro takes it as the opportunity it is to absolutely tongue-fuck the shit out of this smug, sexy asshole. 

After a moment they each pull away, Zoro’s hand still gripping the cook’s tie. They’re both breathing hard. This is a state that Zoro has seen Sanji in dozens of times, either when he’s coming back from a good night or interrupted mid-tryst. His visible eye is blown wide with lust, his hair is wild, and his lips are cherry red and kiss-bruised. He’s seen him like this so many times before, but never… never by his own hand. 

“Cook,” Zoro says. “This… Can’t be what it usually is.” 

“How is it usually?” Sanji replies, his gaze flitting restlessly between Zoro’s lips and his eye, like he’s eager to dive back for more, like he’s fucking craving it. Goddamn. 

Zoro takes a second, gathers himself. “Casual.” This gets Sanji’s attention. Zoro feels the undivided force of it like a brand. “I can’t do this casually.” 

“Okay.” Sanji doesn't pull away. He smiles.

Zoro feels a stupid expression of surprise take over his face. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do serious,” Sanji murmurs, his sight inextricably locked back onto Zoro’s lips. Zoro feels the pull back towards Sanji’s like a magnet. 

They meet in a clash of hands and lips and teeth and tongue. 

It's goddamn perfect.


“Okay,” Nami sighs, absentmindedly rubbing a throbbing vein in her temple. Behind her is most of the crew, gawking (or in Robin’s case, chucking smugly). In front of her are Sanji and Zoro, rumpled and looking well-fucked, with flour smeared all over their faces, hands, hair, and clothes. Behind them, the kitchen is a disaster. There is dough (or at least, what Nami hopes is dough) puddled on the floor, floury hand prints on the walls, Sanji’s tie hanging from the rafters, Zoro’s haramaki in the sink, and, most incredibly, a perfect ass-print in flour on the counter top. 

“We have rules for a reason, ” Nami says to a soundtrack of Luffy snickering, Franky and Brook high-fiving each other, and Usopp bemoaning his lack of a love life and praying for a swift death.

“What’s rule number one, Sanji?” Nami asks with a facade of infinite patience. 

“Uh… have sex behind locked doors?” He looks partially abashed and partially like the cat that got the mouse. 

Nami nods. “So why the hell did you break that rule?” 

“Well, technically, the door was locked until Luffy broke the lock—”

“I thought you guys were having a feast without me!”

“They were having a different kind of feast, yohoho!” Brook sing-songs.

“What are the kids calling it these days?” Franky ponders. “‘Eating ass?’”

“Oh my god, ” Usopp whines. “How is this my life? I need bleach, someone, anyone, get me bleach."

Over the ensuing commotion about the ethics of eating-ass in common areas and the use of various kitchen items as dildos and/or lube and Chopper’s confused, “what’s a dildo?” and “eating ass seems unsanitary…” Sanji’s hand finds its way to Zoro’s. 

Their flour-smeared fingers gently lace together and they can’t help but smile.