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lemonvii · 4 months ago

Text

Home to you (Once more, for the record)

11k word fic

Pairing: Zosan | Roronoa Zoro x Vinsmoke Sanji

Tags: Older Character au - Canon Divergence - Friends to Lovers - Fluff - Shameless Smut - Oral Sex - Praise Kink - Degradation - Pining - Anal Fingering - Boot Worship - Complicated Relationships - OPLA

Top Roronoa Zoro Bottom Sanji (One Piece)

SUMMARY - Years after their adventures on the Thousand Sunny, Zoro and Sanji find themselves reunited at Sanji's new restaurant/ roof top apartment. A night of shared memories and rekindled passions leads them to confront the feelings they've long kept buried, ultimately realizing that the connection they share goes far beyond just physical attraction.

Sanji moved through his kitchen with a practiced grace, each flick of the wrist and smooth motion revealing a lifetime of experience since they last crossed paths. From his perch at the kitchen island, Zoro's eyes followed him, noting the subtle shift in the cook’s physique—stronger, more defined, with a touch of silver at his temples that only added to his allure. At 35, Sanji had aged like fine wine, and Zoro wasn’t too proud to admit how much he’d missed that boyish charm and the ever-present scent of cigarettes that clung to him like a second skin.

“Not quite the reckless chef I met 16 years ago, huh?” Zoro commented, his tone laced with nostalgia.

Sanji’s laugh filled the kitchen, richer and more grounded than Zoro remembered. With a steady hand, Sanji refilled Zoro’s cup of Umeshu, his movements smooth and confident. “People change, Zoro. I’d hope all these years would add some depth to both of us.” There was a subtle shift in his accent, a faint trace of his rougher roots slipping through.

Zoro nodded and took a deep sip of his drink, letting the warmth seep into his throat. Absently he’d been his fingers tracing the letters of his name into the cool surface of the marble countertop in thought. The contrast between the countertop's chill and the kitchen's heat made him think back on their lives together; the up’s, down’s, and everything in between.

His gaze lingered on Sanji, who moved with effortless grace, portioning food onto plates and fully in his element. The cook's hair, once meticulously styled, now had a few rebellious strands falling into his eyes, the rest tied back in a messy half-up ponytail. It was a stark contrast to the polished look Zoro remembered, but somehow, it suited him even more. The sight was captivating, and Zoro couldn’t help but feel that Sanji had more than earned the attention he got.

“I can see that. You’ve turned this place into something... impressive,” Zoro murmured, sliding his chopsticks out of the way as Sanji placed two plates down with a flourish, his grin knowing and just a bit smug. Without needing to ask, Zoro recognized his favorite—onigiri and salted sea king meat, beautifully garnished.

“Thanks,” Sanji sighed, patting his hands on his apron before peeling it off with a sense of finality. “It’s my little haven near the city. But what about you? Still wandering blind, or have you finally found a port to call home?”

Zoro grinned at the jab, his voice rumbling with amusement as he shot back, “You still slummin’ the tables, waiter?”

Sanji scoffed, a mock glare on his face as he rounded the table. "Hush it, bastard." He muttered but dropped into the seat beside Zoro, the chair creaking under his weight as he settled in.

They began to eat, the clink of chopsticks against plates filling the comfortable silence between them. Sanji didn’t miss a beat, offering small, pointed insults about Zoro’s table manners between bites, his eyes glinting with that familiar mix of annoyance and affection. Zoro, unbothered, grunted in response, his grin widening with each quip as they tucked into the meal together.

Gratitude washed over Zoro as they ate; he had really begun to miss this. Luffy, in his usual chaotic way, had planned to bring everyone back together at Sanji’s bustling new restaurant to mark another anniversary of their crew’s formation. But the others hadn’t arrived yet—Zoro had actually sailed in early, prompted by a news coo letter from Sanji written in a code only the two of them knew.

Sanji’s message had been simple but unmistakable: “The sake is running low, and the moss on the rocks is growing fast.” It was their way of saying, "We need to talk, just us."

Slipping back into easy camaraderie with Sanji felt like rediscovering an old rhythm. But it wasn’t just the banter or the familiar taste of Sanji’s cooking that Zoro had missed. It was the closeness, the way they used to connect, both in and out of bed. He caught Sanji’s eye, a hint of that familiar smirk playing on the cook’s lips, and Zoro felt a flicker of the old heat between them.

They both knew what was on his mind, but for now, they danced around it, letting the moment linger, enjoying the tension that crackled just beneath the surface. As the meal came to an end, the mood gradually shifted, the lighthearted banter giving way to a more subdued atmosphere. Zoro noticed the way Sanji’s smile softened as he lit a cigarette, his eyes flickering with something unspoken, as if he too was navigating the space between nostalgia and the present. It was in these quieter moments, when the noise of the world faded, that Zoro found himself opening up in ways he rarely did with anyone else. The room felt smaller somehow, as if the walls were leaning in to listen.

"I visited my old village," Zoro sighed, shifting in his seat. "Paid my respects to Kuina's grave and... spent some time with Wado Ichimonji."

Sanji remained silent, the smoke from his cigarette curling lazily into the air as Zoro's admission settled between them. The weight of it was palpable—a rare moment of vulnerability from Zoro, and he knew it. Wado Ichimonji was more than just a sword; it was a living link to his past, to Kuina, and to the promise that had defined his life. Only a few people truly grasped the depth of that bond, and Sanji was one of them. He’d held that knowledge in quiet confidence, never once betraying the trust Zoro had placed in him.

After a long moment, Sanji finally spoke, his voice softer than usual. "She’d be proud of you, Zoro. Proud of how far you've come... and that you've kept her close all this time." There was no teasing, no banter—just a sincere acknowledgment that hit Zoro with unexpected force. He felt it deep in his chest, a rare surrender to the emotion in Sanji’s words—something he didn’t often allow himself to feel. Sanji collected their plates and dumped them into the sink, rolling up his sleeves. Zoro watched and scowled, but it was more to mask the stirring emotion within him than to reject the sentiment.

Wordlessly, He pushed himself up from his seat and moved to the sink, slipping seamlessly into the old rhythm they’d shared aboard the Thousand Sunny. He didn’t need to ask where to start; his hands found the dish towel, drying each plate and bowl with the same practiced ease he’d developed during countless meals at sea. The soft glow of the kitchen’s overhead lamp bathed them in warm light, casting gentle shadows that swayed with their movements.

“You did a good thing, moss,” Sanji murmured, his voice barely cutting through the soft clinking of dishes. Zoro didn’t respond with words; he grunted softly, acknowledging the sentiment as he set another dish to dry.

As they worked, Zoro found himself easing into the routine, his usual tension melting away with each swipe of the towel or scrub of the pot. He felt a rare calm settle over him, a quiet contentment that made him more attuned to Sanji's gentle directions on where to place each item. It was the kind of peace he hadn’t realized he’d been missing, and for once, he let himself enjoy it.

Their shared feelings wrapped around them like a balm, smoothing the rough edges of old wounds. The silence between them was filled with unspoken understanding, a reminder of the resilience that had carried them through so much—Arlong, Thriller Bark, Whole Cake—every near-death encounter with Kaido or Big Mom, every scar etched into their skin.

Sanji leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing against Zoro’s, the contact welcomed in kind. Sanji’s voice followed, a soft murmur meant only for Zoro, the words slipping past the clatter of the kitchen and securing his attention in the moment.

“I missed you,” Sanji whispered, the sincerity in his tone carrying a weight that settled deep in Zoro’s chest. Goosebumps prickled along Zoro’s bare arms and he held his breath. Sanji’s words washing over him like sea glass, smooth and polished.

“You too, Curly.” He offered Sanji a gentle smile, affirming the sentiment without the need for more words. Their eyes locked, the air between them grew heavier, thick with the weight of unspoken emotions. He hadn’t expected to feel such a strong ache for Sanji after all this time—yet here he was, drawn to the man who had once been a constant in his life.

The suds from the dishes clung to their hands, and the sound of their breath echoed.

Zoro’s gaze lingered, heavy and searching, as if trying to bridge the years of distance with just a look. Sanji met his stare with equal intensity, a silent understanding passing between them. The kitchen around them faded away, leaving only the two of them, closer than they’d been in years.

Sanji’s warmth still lingered on his hand with a gentle grasp, even if he was someone strong and unyielding enough to match his energy, someone who understood him without needing words- he could be soft too.

Luffy had his loyalty, no doubt, but Sanji—his left wing—was the one who had always protected his back, who dealt with his bullshit and moods without flinching. Sanji was the one Zoro could count on—the one who fed him well and fought just as fiercely beside him.

The loneliness of those long nights at sea brought them together, their brief touches in the galley and the unresolved tension that filled them. The weight of their shared history, their unspoken bond, pressed in around him, filling the space where words failed.

Zoro’s grip tightened around Sanji’s hand, still slick from the soap, and he leaned in slightly, their foreheads nearly touching. “You’ve always had my back, Sanji,” he murmured, the words carrying the weight of everything he’d never said. “Even when I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”

Sanji’s eyes softened at the admission, his smile small but genuine. “And I always will, you idiot,” he replied, his voice tinged with the familiar mix of affection and exasperation. He squeezed Zoro’s hand gently.

As if sensing the shift in Zoro’s thoughts, Sanji suggested they move to the living room. The ambiance transformed; soft jazz played in the background, and the warm glow from the lamps cast gentle shadows around the room. Zoro’s gaze wandered, landing on the tangerine tree Nami had given as an opening gift, a vibrant reminder of their shared history. Scattered throughout the space were pieces of all the Strawhats—knick-knacks, furniture, each item steeped in memories of their time together. It was an inviting scene, where the bottle of Umeshu they shared felt like a bridge between their past and present.

===

“Remember when you used to sneak into the galley late at night?” Sanji teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he handed Zoro another refill. Sanji was definitely tipsy– but Zoro proudly knocked back another sip as he still had a while to go. “Always claimed you were hungry, but I knew better.”

Zoro leaned back into the couch, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What, you think I was there just to see your ugly mug?” Yes.

Sanji rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the grin. “Please, like you could resist my cooking—or anything else in that kitchen.”

Zoro’s grin widened, a spark of mischief in his eyes as the flirtation stoked a familiar heat between them. “Maybe you’ll find out tonight, if you’re lucky,” he shot back, letting his fingers linger a moment longer as he handed Sanji the bottle. Their eyes locked as he drank, the unspoken desire between them simmering just beneath the surface.

Sanji swirled the nearly empty bottle, his smirk not wavering, but there was a flicker of something intense in his gaze as he tucked his feet into the crease of the couch, flushed and tipsy.

“You been with anyone else since me?” Zoro asked, his tone casual, though the question carried more weight than he let on.

Sanji paused his swirling thoughtfully before pouring himself another drink. “What’s it to you, mosshead? Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. But none of them were as stubborn or thick-headed as you,” he teased, but the usual bite in his words was missing, replaced by a hint of vulnerability if you listened close enough.

Zoro shrugged, leaning back into the couch with a lazy confidence that belied the intensity of his gaze. “Guess i'm just one of a kind, hm?” His tone was light, but the underlying challenge in his words was clear.

Sanji’s chuckle faded, but the way his gaze lingered on Zoro told him everything he needed to know. Zoro wasn’t blind to the blonde’s flirtation or the desire simmering beneath those casual words. He knew Sanji better than anyone—knew just how far the cook was willing to go when given the chance. And if there was one thing Zoro could read as clearly as a map, it was the fact that Sanji wouldn’t have sent that news coo for him to come early without a damn good reason.

Zoro leaned back, eyeing Sanji with a cocky tilt of his head, his fangs peeking through a sly grin. “So, this is what you had in mind when you called me here early, huh? Could’ve just said you missed me.”

Sanji’s lips twitched, but his eyes held Zoro’s with a seriousness that belied his playful tone. “Would you have come if I did?”

Zoro didn’t answer right away, letting the question hang between them. The truth was, he’d been planning to come home to him anyway. The endless wandering had lost some of its appeal, and lately, he found himself thinking less about the next adventure and more about the people who’d always been by his side. About what he said years ago when they both stood before death’s door.

“Maybe,” Zoro finally replied, his voice low and rough, but the meaning clear. “But you didn’t have to ask. You know I’d have shown up eventually.” He leaned in, closing the distance between them, his voice dropping to a murmur. “But I’m here now. So what are you gonna do about it?”

Sanji’s breath hitched slightly, but he didn’t back down. His tone sweet as he leaned in, meeting Zoro’s gaze head-on. “Depends on how long you plan on sticking around.”

Zoro’s grin sharpened, a dangerous edge to it that made something in Sanji’s chest tighten. “Long enough,” he challenged.

The air between them thrummed with anticipation, the weight of years of banter and rivalry pressing down on them. Neither would yield, not when so much was on the line.

Zoro’s eyes followed every deliberate movement as Sanji traced the rim of his glass, his pale fingers collecting the salted rim and agave syrup. With a slow, deliberate motion, Sanji brought the finger to his lips, sucking the syrup off in a way that was anything but innocent. Checkmate- His eyes stayed locked on Zoro’s, daring him to make the next move.

Before Sanji could quip back, Zoro went into action. His hand shot out, gripping Sanji’s wrist, the glass clattering onto the table, forgotten. Zoro didn’t wait—he pulled Sanji to him, their lips crashing together in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was wine slick, demanding, and full of all the heat and tension that had simmered between them for too long.

Sanji responded instantly, his free hand tangling in Zoro’s hair as he leaned into the kiss, matching Zoro’s intensity with his own. Their mouths moved together with a raw, unfiltered need that sent sparks through both of them. The taste of salt and syrup mixed on their tongues, but it was the taste of each other that had them both craving more after so long.

When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingled in the small space between them, foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. Zoro’s hand cupped Sanji’s jaw, his thumb brushing over the slick, kiss-swollen lips. The blonde panted, eyes blown wide with desire. Zoro looked him over–breath caught, a fierce, primal need surging through him. His voice dropped, gravelly with intent. “I’m thinking you missed this– you missed my mouth on you, hm?” he murmured, the challenge laced with unmistakable desire.

“Shut up,” Sanji growled but angled his neck wider for Zoro to hold him there.

“Can you handle it?” Zoro challenged, hand sliding from his jaw to his throat. Squeezing as Sanji gasped– yes , his voice rough with the lingering heat of the kiss.

Sanji’s smug expression returned, but his eyes were dark, filled with something far more demanding. “I’ve been handling you for years, Marimo. Question is—can you keep up?”

Zoro let him go and suddenly brought his booted foot up to balance on the edge of the table, his legs spreading wide enough to stand in, effectively caging them on the couch. The remnants of meticulously cut ice cubes clinked softly against the glass as he did so.

The music from the record player shifted, the soft jazz morphing into a deeper, more evocative melody, throbbing with the pulse of the room. It enveloped them, a rich, heady sound that mirrored the tension simmering just beneath the surface.

Sanji watched Zoro with wide, glassy eyes, his usual control slipping further away, replaced by an unguarded excitement that left him almost breathless. The anticipation was palpable, each of Zoro's movements drawn out, heavy with meaning.

" Sanji ," Zoro repeated, his voice deeper now, filled with a gravity that sent a shiver down Sanji’s spine. The room fell away, leaving only the two of them and the soft thrum of music—a backdrop to the significant moment unfolding.

Sanji’s breath caught, barely louder than a whisper. "Yes?" His voice carried a mix of curiosity and anticipation, a rare show of vulnerability as he adjusted his grip on the suede pillows.

"Get undressed," Zoro commanded, locking eyes with him in the dimly lit room. Tipsy or not, Zoro’s expression was serious enough to make everything else fade to silence in Sanji’s ears.

"Right," Sanji replied after a beat, standing slowly to shed his button-down and trousers. His hands, normally so steady and sure, trembled slightly as they unbuttoned everything piece by piece. The sight of the tent in his boxers was a pleasing one, and Zoro watched him from the couch, eyes dark with desire as he palmed himself through his jeans, other hand thrown casually along the back of the sofa.

Zoro’s gaze burned into him, every movement of his hands on his own body deliberate and slow, like he was savoring the moment, watching Sanji strip for him. The tension between them crackled like electricity, the air thick with the promise of what was to come.

As Sanji stood there, nearly naked, he felt the weight of Zoro’s gaze on him, the desire in his eyes making the room feel even smaller, hotter. Zoro leaned back; the timbre of his voice sparked a thrill straight to Sanji’s core. “Now, come here.”

Sanji moved toward him, each step deliberate, as if testing the tension in the air between them. The soft thrum of the music filled the room, the low notes resonating through the floor, vibrating up through their bodies. Zoro’s gaze was fixed on Sanji, every breath he took seemed to synchronize with the blonde’s movements. The warm light of the room highlighted the contours of Sanji’s body, casting shadows that accentuated every line of muscle, every curve of his frame.

Sanji stopped just short of Zoro, his bare feet brushing against the plush rug. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air thick with anticipation. Then, with a deliberate motion, Sanji sank to his knees in front of Zoro, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound as he settled between the swordsman’s legs. His hands, slightly trembling, found Zoro’s thighs, the heat of his skin seeping through the rough denim, sending a shiver of anticipation through both of them.

Zoro’s breath hitched, his hand instinctively moving to rest on the back of Sanji’s neck. The warmth of Sanji’s skin under his fingers was a stark contrast to the cool air of the room, and Zoro’s grip tightened, his thumb tracing the line of Sanji’s hairline with a tenderness that belied the roughness of his earlier words.

Sanji’s fingers worked on Zoro’s belt with practiced ease, the metal buckle clicking softly as it came undone. Each movement was unhurried, almost reverent, as if Sanji was savoring the moment, drawing out the anticipation. Zoro could feel the tension in his own muscles, the way his body hummed with energy, every nerve ending on high alert as Sanji slowly unzipped his jeans, the sound loud in the intimate space.

The fabric slid down Zoro’s legs, the rough texture brushing against his skin before pooling around his ankles. Sanji’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of Zoro’s cock straining against the thin fabric of his boxers, the heat radiating off him in waves. He leaned in, the scent of Zoro’s arousal mixing with the subtle notes of sweat and the lingering salt from the rim of the glass, creating a heady blend that made Sanji’s mouth water.

“Don’t make me wait, cook,” He ordered, heart pumping with desire, each word vibrating through Sanji’s body, settling low in his belly.

Sanji smirked, his confidence returning as he looked up at Zoro, the challenge clear in his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it, marimo,” he replied, his voice steady, though his hands were anything but as they hooked into the waistband of Zoro’s boxers, tugging them down tentatively.

The moment Zoro’s cock sprang free, the air between them thickened, the scent of Zoro’s skin mingling with the warmth of the room. Sanji’s breath caught in his throat as he wrapped his hand around the base, the heat of Zoro’s arousal pulsing against his palm, a steady rhythm that matched the pounding of his own heart.

He leaned in, the warmth of his breath ghosting over the tip before his lips brushed lightly against it, the touch feather-light, teasing. Zoro’s grip in his hair tightened, a wordless command, and Sanji obliged, his tongue darting out to taste the salt and musk of Zoro’s skin, the flavor exploding across his senses, grounding him in the moment.

Zoro’s hand guided him, fingers threading through his hair, not forceful but firm, as if reminding Sanji who was in control. Sanji took him in deeper, his lips sliding down the length, his tongue pressing against the underside, feeling the throb of Zoro’s pulse against it. The sounds that escaped Zoro’s lips—low, guttural groans—sent shivers down Sanji’s spine, spurring him on, making him crave more.

Each slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue, each hollowing of his cheeks, drove Zoro closer to the edge, the tension in his body winding tighter with every second. The room seemed to shrink around them, the music fading into the background as the heat of the moment took over, their breaths the only sound as Sanji’s mouth worked Zoro with a relentless intensity.

“Fuck,” Zoro muttered, his voice thick with restraint. He looked down at Sanji, the sight of the blonde’s head moving between his thighs, the way his eyes fluttered shut in concentration, almost undoing him. “You’re too fucking good at this.”

Sanji hummed around him, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation that made Zoro’s hips jerk involuntarily. The taste, the heat, the feel of Zoro in his mouth was intoxicating, a heady mix that made Sanji’s own arousal pulse in time with the rhythm of his movements.

As Zoro’s control slipped further, his breathing grew ragged, his hips instinctively moving in tandem with the skilled strokes of Sanji’s mouth. The pressure built in his core, the pleasure cresting with every pass of Sanji’s lips and tongue, each movement pushing him closer to the edge. Zoro could feel the tension winding tighter and tighter, a coil ready to snap.

“Sanji—” Zoro’s voice broke into a guttural growl, his body taut as he fought against the urge to fuck into his mouth, his hand gripping Sanji’s hair, holding him in place. “I’m close—”

Sanji, hearing the desperation in Zoro’s voice, felt a thrill run through him. His free hand moved quickly, sliding down to his own aching cock, wrapping around it in a firm grip. The slickness from his own arousal made his strokes smooth, each one mirroring the rhythm he maintained on Zoro. He let out a raucous moan, the vibrations from his throat sending another jolt of pleasure through Zoro’s body.

Zoro’s eyes, half-lidded and dark with need, caught the movement of Sanji’s hand. A wicked grin spread across his face as an idea struck him. “Yeah?” he rasped, his voice hoarse. “You want more, cook? I’ll give you something.”

With his grip still firm in Sanji’s hair, Zoro moved his other leg out the way to guide sanjis gaze to his foot, the steel toe of his boot pressing lightly against Sanji’s cock, dragging it along the length. The pressure was firm, unyielding, but not enough to satisfy—just enough to tease, to drive Sanji mad with want.

“Rub yourself on it,” Zoro growled, his aura commanding, a challenge laced with degradation. “Like the desperate slut you are.”

Sanji’s breath hitched at Zoro's words, his eyes widening as a flush spread across his cheeks. The heat of Zoro’s boot pressing against his cock, the rough texture of the leather against his sensitive skin, sent a shiver down his spine. He hesitated for only a moment before surrendering to the demand, grinding himself against the boot, the friction igniting sparks of pleasure that rippled through his entire body.

“Freak,” Sanji growled, though the word came out more as a moan, betraying the intensity of the sensation coursing through him.

Zoro’s grip tightened in Sanji’s hair, a thrill running through him as he watched Sanji’s hollow complaint crumble into submission. His own arousal surged at the sight. “Look at you,” Zoro rasped, his voice thick with desire. “So fucking needy, grinding on my boot like a damn whore. Who’s the freak now?”

Without giving Sanji a chance to protest, Zoro pushed more of his cock into Sanji’s mouth, his movements rough and demanding. The slight graze of Sanji’s teeth was nothing compared to the soft pressure of his tongue, and the mix of sensations drove Zoro wild with need.

Sanji moaned around Zoro’s cock, the degrading words and the combination of Zoro’s rough treatment only fueling the fire in his belly. The friction against the boot and the feel of Zoro in his mouth pushed Sanji to the brink, his own strokes on himself becoming frantic as he chased the release that was rapidly building inside him.

Zoro’s hips began to buck involuntarily, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. His foot remained stuck until Sanji, with a desperate need for more friction, grabbed the sole and forced it to slide in the rhythm he craved—guiding Zoro to press harder, driving him to grind against it. The degradation, the intensity of the moment, only spurred them both on, riding that thin line of oblivion before Sanji could fall completely into subspace.

“Fuck, Sanji,” Zoro gritted out, his control slipping completely as he felt the coil in his core finally snap. “Come on, you filthy fucking slut, make us both come.”

The command, laced with desperation and raw need, sent a jolt through Sanji, his entire body responding to Zoro’s words. With one final, frantic grind against Zoro’s boot, Sanji’s release hit him with the force of a tidal wave, his cry vibrating around Zoro’s cock as he came hard, the pleasure overwhelming.

Zoro’s reaction was immediate, the sight and feel of Sanji unraveling beneath him pushing him over the edge. His body tensed, and with a guttural groan, he came, his release spilling into Sanji’s mouth in hot, thick spurts. The sensation of Sanji swallowing around him, combined with the sight of Sanji’s own pleasure, left him shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.

Zoro’s hand remained tangled in Sanji's hair, holding him there as the last waves of pleasure coursed through his body, leaving him breathless and spent. When Zoro finally released his hold, Sanji pulled back, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. He wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up at Zoro with dark, teary eyes.

Zoro stared down at him, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breathing. A lazy, satisfied grin spread across his face as he took in the sight of Sanji kneeling before him, flushed and disheveled, his release still evident on the floor and on Zoro’s boot.

“You’re a fucking mess,” Zoro said, his voice approving and rough, an unmistakable edge of fondness in his tone, a mixture of satisfaction and something deeper that only Sanji could bring out in him. Sanji looked up at him, still on his knees, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And whose fault is that?” he shot back; his voice hoarse but tinged with satisfaction. There was no real bite to his words—just the contentment of a man who had gotten exactly what he wanted.

Zoro didn’t disagree, already hardening again. He reached out instead, pulling Sanji up for a heated kiss, tasting himself on Sanji’s lips, the kiss more languid, more indulgent than before. “My turn,” Zoro murmured against his lips, his voice carrying the promise of what was to come.

He was still on his knees, breathless and dazed, his body humming with the lingering heat of Zoro’s touch. He was trying to steady himself, his fingers digging into the rug as he processed the aftershocks of his spent orgasm coursing through him. But before he could fully gather his wits, Zoro’s calloused hands were on him again, strong and unyielding.

With a rough, fluid motion, Zoro yanked Sanji up from the floor as if he weighed nothing, pulling him into his lap. Sanji’s legs instinctively spread as Zoro positioned him, his naked body caging Zoro’s thighs, their skin hot and sticky where they touched. The sensation of his plush cheeks balancing on Zoro’s spread thighs sent a shiver through him, a mix of vulnerability and raw desire coursing through his veins.

Sanji’s head fell back further, his eyes fluttering shut as he lost himself in the sensations Zoro was drawing out of him. The way Zoro’s lips pressed against his throat, kissing, biting, and sucking with a desperate need, made Sanji’s pulse race. He succumbed to the movement of Zoro’s deft fingers, that sent sparks of pleasure raking through his veins.

“Zoro… shit, I’m still fucking hard—” Sanji gasped and clenched his eyes shut, his voice breaking as he rocked his hips harder, faster, desperate for more, desperate for his first mate.

Zoro moaned at the admission, his grip on Sanji’s hips bruising as he pulled him down harder, grinding their cocks together with a force that made Sanji’s vision blur. “That's it gorgeous,” Zoro rasped, his breath hot against Sanji’s ear. “Don't come until I’ve had my fill of you.”

Sanji’s moan, the choked " Hng— ", grew almost to a sob, the denial both agonizing and exquisite. His grip was weak, caught between the need for release and the overwhelming desire to give Zoro everything he wanted. He could feel Zoro’s cock, hot and hard against his own, the slickness between them making every movement more intense, more desperate.

Zoro's lips trailed down Sanji’s chest, his tongue flicking out to taste the salty skin, each touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through Sanji’s body. The sensation was almost too much to bear, yet Sanji craved more. His fingers tangled in Zoro’s hair, tugging with a desperate need as he leaned down, his own mouth finding the bronzed skin of Zoro’s neck. Sanji bit down lightly, his teeth grazing the flesh before sucking hard, leaving a mark that contrasted starkly against Zoro’s tanned skin.

Zoro’s response was immediate, a low growl rumbling from deep in his chest as he felt Sanji's teeth sink into him. The sound only spurred Sanji on, his mouth working feverishly to taste every inch of Zoro he could reach. He moved with a hunger that matched Zoro's, his lips and tongue tracing along Zoro's collarbone, up to his jaw, and then back down to his shoulder, leaving a trail of heated kisses and love bites in his wake.

Zoro’s hands gripped Sanji’s muscular thighs, pulling him even closer until their bodies were flush against each other. The heat between them was almost unbearable, their slick skin sliding together with every movement. Zoro’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Sanji’s thighs, anchoring him in place.

Sanji’s breath came in ragged gasps, his mind spinning as Zoro’s mouth continued its assault on his body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Every kiss, every lick, every bite sent sparks of pleasure shooting through him, coiling tighter and tighter in his belly until he felt like he was going to explode.

Zoro clutched both of their cocks, his grip firm yet tender, a quiet moan escaping him as he looked up at Sanji who was curled over him, their gasps mingling in the lowlight. His own mouth fell open, mirroring Sanji’s expression, captivated by the way his gorgeous face was lost to the pleasure.

“Fuck that feels good” Sanji groaned and joined his hand to Zoro’s, stroking them both at his preferred pace.

Zoro chuckled and obliged as to not overstimulate them both. The friction between them sent lava through his entire body, chest heaving as worked them to completion.

“That all you got? Sanji challenge, straightening with renewed energy. He pushed a hand through his hair and Zoro felt his dick pulse in approval.

“Patience curly,” Zoro warned before reaching to hold Sanji by the nape to change the angle. He yelped in surprise but let himself get manhandled. With ease Zoro had maneuvered him, draping Sanji up and over his shoulder to clutch the headrest of the couch. Instantly switching to grope his ass and support his weight.

Sanji’s world tilted, his body jolting as he was suddenly airborne, a breathless gasp escaping him as he tried to adjust to the new sensations. Zoro’s large hands moved with purpose, one arm wrapped securely around Sanji’s waist while the other trailed down, his fingers finding their way between Sanji’s cheeks.

Sanji gasped, the sound high and breathless, as Zoro’s fingers brushed against his entrance, the touch light but deliberate. Sanji’s breath hitched, trembling as his cock was pressed tightly against large pecs. His nails bit into Zoro’s back, scraping against firm muscle as he clung to him. Each breath was sharp and uneven, catching in his throat as Zoro’s fingers teased his ass with deliberate slowness, pressing and prodding at his most sensitive spot, drawing out the tension.

Sanji’s control frayed further, his cock trapped between that delicious muscle and relentlessly squished and milked. Sanji wanted him inside already, wanted him so badly he felt the telling drip of blood warm his upper lip.

Zoro’s grin widened, catching the way Sanji’s body reacted to every touch, every teasing motion. He leaned closer, his breath warm as he pressed a soft kiss to the curve of Sanji’s spine, just below where he could reach from his position. His lips lingered, feeling the way Sanji shivered under his touch and wiped his nose as best he could.

“Relax, I've got you.” Zoro murmured, his voice a deep, soothing rumble that vibrated against Sanji’s skin. The words weren’t just a command—they were a promise, one that echoed in the soft brush of his lips against Sanji’s back and the steady, patient way he moved, giving Sanji exactly what he needed to let go.

Zoro’s fingers paused just before they could delve further, and he pulled back slightly, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. “We need lube,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Sanji, still trembling with anticipation, blinked down at him, dazed. It took a moment for the words to fully register. “Lube… right,” he stammered, trying to gather his wits, rubbing his spit slick finger on the head of the couch. “It’s… it’s in my bedroom. Top drawer, beside the bed.”

Zoro grunted in acknowledgment and, with a final spank to Sanji’s hips, slid the man off his shoulder and stood up. Sanji watched as Zoro deftly untangled his jeans from his ankles, kicking them off after he unlaced his combat boots with practiced efficiency and tossed them aside. The sight of Zoro standing there, bare and sweat slick from their sex, muscles rippling under his bronze skin, was enough to make Sanji’s dick jump in interest. But just as he was admiring Zoro’s sculpted back and perfectly toned ass, Zoro began striding purposefully in the wrong direction—toward the front door.

“Oi!” Sanji yelled, a mix of alarm and amusement in his voice. “Bedroom’s that way, you idiot!”

Zoro halted mid-stride, glancing over his shoulder with a confused look.

“Did your nose just bleed?” He leaned in and squinted. Mortified he was caught, Sanji threw a pillow and barked, “Hell no, go find the lube.”

Zoro shrugged and easily dodged the decorative pillow.

Sanji couldn’t help but sigh, shaking his head at the sheer absurdity of it all. “How the hell do you get lost inside?” he muttered to himself.

But even as the humor bubbled up, Sanji’s eyes couldn’t help but follow Zoro’s retreating form, taking in the taut lines of his body, the way his muscles moved with every step. There was something undeniably sexy about Zoro’s casual confidence, the way he owned every space he was in, even when he had no idea where he was going.

The sound of that shitty swordsman bumping into furniture and cursing softly drifted in from the other room, and Sanji’s sigh turned into something softer, more affectionate. He lay back on the couch, his hand absentmindedly trailing down to his navel to his softening length, stroking himself slowly as he listened to Zoro’s heavy footsteps and muttered curses. The moment was both intimate and endearing, a strange mix of the domestic and the erotic, and it filled Sanji with a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the moment.

Sanji could hear Zoro rummaging through the drawers, the occasional thud or clatter punctuating the otherwise still air. As he waited, his body began to sink into the cushions, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles, more to keep the warmth of arousal simmering than to bring himself closer to release. The silence gave him space to think, and in the quiet moments, he found himself missing the days when Zoro was always around, their proximity a constant, reassuring presence. He’d long since moved past the days where such thoughts would have driven him mad, his affections for the brute now something he’d come to embrace.

The memory of Zoro’s hands, the way they knew exactly where to touch, the weight of his body pressing him down, sent a ripple of anticipation through him, keeping him on edge. His heart beat a little faster, the anticipation thrumming just beneath his skin, a reminder of how deeply his desires had rooted themselves. He didn’t rush; instead, he let the thoughts linger, savoring the quiet thrill of what was inevitable and thumbing the pre that collected as a result of such thoughts.

It wasn’t long before Zoro returned, the bottle of lube clutched triumphantly in one hand. He was still naked, his body glistening faintly with sweat, and the sight of him, fully revealed in all his thick, uncut glory, made Sanji’s breath catch. Zoro’s cock, heavy and erect, bobbed slightly as he walked back into the room, and Sanji’s eyes were drawn to it, his mouth going dry at the sheer sight of it.

Zoro smirked as he caught the way Sanji was looking at him, all dazed and flushed, one hand still wrapped around his own cock. “Like what you see?” he asked, his voice laced with a cocky confidence that made Sanji’s heart skip a beat.

Sanji’s response was an involuntary moan, his lips parting as he nodded, his eyes locked on Zoro’s body. Zoro’s smirk deepened as he came closer, his presence filling the space between them, the heat of his body almost palpable.

“On your knees, baby,” Zoro commanded, his grey eyes narrowing and that gravelly tone that sent a shiver down Sanji’s spine.

Sanji’s mind went blissfully blank at the command, his mouth falling open as he moved to obey. He settled back into position, his knees sinking into the cushions as he presented himself to Zoro, his body humming with anticipation. There was something about the way Zoro said it—so confident, so sure—that made Sanji’s heart race, made him want to give in completely.

Zoro didn’t waste any time. He slicked his fingers with the lube, the cool sensation making Sanji gasp as Zoro’s hand slid between his cheeks, fingers teasing at his entrance once more. “Good boy,” Zoro murmured, his voice filled with approval as he worked the lube into Sanji, making sure he was stretched and ready. Sanji let out a drawn-out groan, his voice thick with need as he squeezed his eyes shut, collapsing against the armrest and baring his ass to Zoro’s relentless hands. The tension that had kept him stiff as a board melted away, leaving him vulnerable, exposed, and completely at Zoro’s mercy. Every touch sent waves of heat coiling tighter in his gut, intensifying the sensation with each passing second.

“Taking my fingers so good, gorgeous,” Zoro murmured, a grin tugging at his lips as he eased a second thick finger inside. The added stretch pulled a deep groan from Sanji, his body trembling beneath Zoro’s touch. Zoro rubbed soothing circles on the curve of Sanji’s cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of bone and muscle as he worked him open, coaxing him into a state of ease, of readiness for what was to come.

“Just wait till I fu— hhn —f-fuck you next time,” Sanji punched out, his voice breaking into a breathless chuckle that quickly morphed into another groan. The sound was wild, almost delirious, punctuated by the tremors that racked his body as he rocked back onto Zoro’s thick fingers. His breath caught in his throat when Zoro’s fingers brushed over that spot inside, sending a shockwave of pleasure through him.

Zoro froze for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he took in Sanji’s breathless, teasing words. A pleasure driven chuckle rumbled in his chest, the sound vibrating against Sanji’s skin as Zoro leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of Sanji’s ear. “Oh, you think you’re gonna be able to handle that, huh?” Zoro whispered, his voice dripping with challenge. “You won’t be laughing when I have you begging for it.”

Sanji’s giggle faltered, replaced by a sharp intake of breath as Zoro’s fingers curled inside him, hitting that spot again with precise intent. “Z-Zoro,” Sanji managed to stammer, the sound almost a plea as he tried to keep his composure. But the way his body trembled, the way his breath hitched with every thrust of Zoro’s fingers, betrayed just how close he was to falling apart.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Zoro muttered, his voice rough with satisfaction as he watched Sanji’s cock twitch, his body betraying him as he rocked back onto Zoro’s fingers, desperate for more. “You’re all talk, aren’t you, Sanji? But your body knows what it needs.”

Sanji’s response was lazy and drawn as he moaned, his body arching into Zoro’s touch, trying to chase the pleasure that was building again inside him. He could focus his thoughts, his mind too clouded with need, with the sensation of Zoro’s fingers inside him, pushing him closer to the edge. “Just shut up and fuck me already,” Sanji groaned, the words tumbling out in a rush, head falling back as Zoro petted him simultaneously.

Zoro smirked, clearly pleased with Sanji's demands as he slowly withdrew his fingers and savored the way Sanji gasped at the loss. He could feel the heat radiating off Sanji’s body, the tension that had coiled so tightly within him ready to snap. “You want this, Sanji?” Zoro breathed out, his voice rough with the weight of his desire. “Gonna feed you my cock, baby, just wait.”

Zoro’s hands gripped Sanji’s hips firmly, holding him steady as he positioned himself, the thick blunt head of his cock pressing against Sanji’s entrance with a deliberate, teasing slowness. The heat of Zoro’s velvety skin against him was almost unbearable, the anticipation building to a fever pitch that left Sanji’s breath catching in his throat.

“Say it,” Zoro demanded, his voice a low growl as he hovered at Sanji’s entrance, refusing to push in just yet. “Tell me how bad you want it, Sanji.”

Sanji’s breath hitched, his body trembling with need as he tried to muster the words, tried to keep his voice steady. “Zoro… I-I need it, fuck , I need you,” he finally choked out, his back and arms trembling with raw desperation.

Zoro’s eyes darkened with satisfaction, and without another word, he began to push inside, inch by deliberate inch, filling Sanji with a deliberate, relentless pressure that made his entire body quiver with pleasure. He slid a thumb around the fluttering rim beside his cock, stretching his pink hole with the indent of the digit. Sanji shook and gasped beneath him- words coming out garbled.

“Good boy,” Zoro murmured, his voice thick with approval as he bent closer, his breath hot against Sanji’s neck. “I knew you could.”

Sanji whimpered and braced himself, his fingers digging into the armrest as Zoro began to push inside, the stretch and burn of it making him gasp, but it was exactly what he needed—what they both needed.

Zoro's thrusts started gradually but never lacking in depth, each one deliberate and rough, making Sanji gasp and tremble with the force of it. The couch creaked under their weight, barely holding up against the ferocity of his thrusts. The air was thick with the heady scent of sweat and sex, their bodies slick as they slid against each other and increased the tempo.

Zoro’s grip on Sanji was possessive, his large hands gripping his hips hard enough to leave bruises if it were anyone else, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. Every thrust was a calculated effort to make Sanji feel every inch of him, to push him to the brink and keep him there. Zoro pulled back almost entirely, leaving Sanji achingly empty for a moment before thrusting back into him with a force that sent shockwaves throughout Sanji’s entire body.

“Ugh,” Sanji choked out through blurry vision, his fingers white with pressure as he clung to the couch cushions desperately. The angle had him seeing stars, each thrust hitting so deep it felt like Zoro was splitting him open, owning every part of him. His breath was coming in short, desperate gasps, his mind barely able to keep up with the relentless pleasure that Zoro was driving into him.

Without warning, Zoro shifted, pulling Sanji up and flipping him over onto his back with an almost careless strength. He maneuvered Sanji so that his leg draped over Zoro’s broad shoulder, the position forcing Sanji open wider. Zoro’s gaze locked onto his, dark and hungry, and the intensity of it made Sanji feel completely exposed, vulnerable in a way that had his heart racing.

“Look at you,” Zoro growled, his voice dripping with lust as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Sanji’s calf. “You’re so fucking perfect like this.” Sanji nodded in agreement, too lost in the moment for his usual scowl.

The new angle allowed Zoro to thrust even deeper, each movement sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to Sanji’s core. Zoro wasn’t gentle; every push was hard, raw, and unrelenting, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing through the room. The slap of skin on skin, the guttural grunts from Zoro, and Sanji’s broken moans filled the air, creating a symphony of raw, unfiltered desire that drowned out the record, its tracks playing on a forgotten loop.

Sanji’s leg trembled on Zoro’s shoulder, his other foot barely keeping him balanced on the couch as he tried to take everything Zoro was giving him. His hands were restless, searching for something to hold onto, but Zoro grabbed his wrists, pulling them up to rest above his head, holding them there with a gentle grip.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” Zoro hissed, his breath hot against Sanji’s ear as he leaned over him, their noses almost touching. Zoro’s thrusts tested Sanji’s flexibility, every movement filthy and deliberate. “I know you missed me fucking you like this,” he murmured, his words skittering down Sanji’s spine, the suede of the couch cushions a pleasant friction on his flushed skin.

Zoro loomed over him, keen eyes locked onto Sanji’s, the sight of his glistening, sweat-slicked chest driving Sanji wild. A sob caught in Sanji’s throat, the overwhelming urge to bite into Zoro’s thick flesh nearly consuming him. But the intensity of it all—the pleasure, the pain—left him breathless, words struggling to form as his mind blurred with sensation.

“Fuck yes… I missed you, Zoro… so much,” Sanji gasped out between thrusts, his voice firm despite the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The emotion was almost too much to bear, his hands trapped above him as Zoro took him apart piece by piece, leaving him dizzy and desperate, craving more.

Zoro’s hands released their grip, opting instead to roam across Sanji’s pale skin, fingers tracing delicate paths that made Sanji shiver with every touch. When Zoro’s thumbs brushed over his nipples, the gentleness drew a soft whimper from Sanji, his body achingly responsive to each dark, deliberate caress. He surrendered to the warm, floaty clouds in his mind, his cock weeping onto his stomach, lost in the sensations that Zoro stirred within him.

The softness in Zoro’s eyes was unmistakable, a tenderness reserved for these intimate moments, as he watched Sanji unravel beneath him. The sharpness usually present in Sanji’s blue eyes had faded, leaving them glassy and vulnerable, reflecting the deep connection they shared in his sacred space.

He slowed his pace, allowing the intensity to shift into something more profound as he leaned in to capture Sanji’s lips. The kiss was messy, desperate, their mouths moving together as if they were both drowning and the other was the only source of air. Zoro's tongue delved deeper, seeking out the taste of Sanji's tears, mingling with the salt on his lips, and groaning as his hips moved in a slow, deliberate grind.

“I’m here, Sanji,” Zoro whispered against his lips, his voice thick and raspy with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Zoro’s words were a vow, one that resonated deep within Sanji, unraveling the last of his defenses. His voice, rough with sincerity, seemed to reverberate in the space between their lips, drawing out a sound from Sanji that was raw and unfiltered, a mixture of pleasure and vulnerability.

Zoro leaned in, capturing Sanji’s mouth into another languid kiss, savoring the taste as if it were the only thing grounding him in this moment. His grip tightened as he poured everything he had into each thrust, his body moving with renewed purpose. He wanted to make up for every second he’d been away, to show Sanji how much he had been missed, how much he needed this.

Sanji’s body responded with an urgency of its own, arching off the couch, desperate to take everything Zoro was offering. The slick heat between them only amplified the sensations, and even as Sanji scoffed at the mess, he couldn’t stop the gasp that followed, his breath hitching with each precise thrust. Zoro’s pace was brutal, relentless, each movement designed to push Sanji closer to the edge, driving him to a place where only Zoro existed, where nothing else mattered but the way their bodies fit together, the way they made each other feel whole.

Zoro’s grip on Sanji’s wrists tightened, his free hand sliding down to wrap around Sanji’s cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. The slick sound of Zoro’s hand moving over him, combined with the deep, relentless thrusts, was enough to push Sanji over the edge. His body tightened. His vision went white as his orgasm tore through him, leaving him trembling and gasping for air.

“Fuck, baby,” Zoro growled, his voice thick with raw need as he watched Sanji’s expression twist with pleasure, his body tightening and locking beneath him. Even as Zoro teetered on the edge, it was the intensity in those blue eyes that held his focus, grounding him in the storm of desire. The tightness that gripped Zoro, pulling him in deeper, made him feel like he was on the brink of losing control. “M'gonna come, baby-fuck, can I?” He begged with urgency, knowing he couldn't last long with the way Sanji held onto him, both physically and emotionally.

Despite the overwhelming sensations, Sanji wasn’t just along for the ride. His thighs tightened around Zoro’s waist, locking him in place, his intent clear and resolute. Meeting Zoro’s gaze, his eyes burned with a fierce determination, a silent command that spoke louder than words. “Inside,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with an undeniable need. His hands reached up, pulling Zoro down into a kiss that was more than just a plea—it was a demand for connection, and Zoro was helpless to deny him.

Zoro shuddered at the intensity of it all, his lips moving with frantic desperation, matching the erratic pounding of his heart. But it was Sanji who took control of the kiss, guiding it with a purposeful rhythm, making it as much about their connection as the physical act. With a final thrust, Zoro buried himself deep, his hips stuttering as he let go. In that moment, it wasn’t just about release; it was about the way Sanji’s presence, his strength, and his unwavering influence over Zoro, drove them both to the edge.

His cock pulsed inside Sanji, spilling his come thick, hot ropes, a deep groan tearing from his throat as the release overtook him. Sanji clung to him, their bodies locked together, riding out the waves of pleasure that crashed over them in tandem. The sheer intensity of it left them both breathless, their bodies shaking, their skin slick with sweat as they held onto each other, Inseparable and sated.

Zoro’s breath came in heavy pants against Sanji’s lips as the last of his release was milked from him, the sensation almost overwhelming in its intensity. They stayed like that, entwined and trembling, as the aftershocks of their shared pleasure slowly subsided. The world outside could wait—right now, there was nothing but the two of them, wrapped in the heat and the raw, undeniable connection they’d rediscovered.

When it was over, Zoro didn’t immediately pull out. He stayed there, buried deep inside Sanji, his forehead resting against the blonde’s as they both caught their breath. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing, the air still thick with the scent of their release.

“You've always been mine,” Zoro murmured, his voice rough but laced with affection as he kissed all over Sanji’s dried tear-streaked cheek. “Always.”

Sanji’s response was a soft, exhausted laugh, his muscular thighs still twitching as he relaxed to whisper back, “Always.”

They lay there, panting and spent, the echoes of their passion lingering in the air like a promise. The record had long since stopped playing, leaving only the quiet hum of their breaths and the steady beat of their hearts filling the room.

“To think I almost forgot how well we fit together,” Sanji sighed, his voice a soft whisper tinged with nostalgia.

Zoro chuckled softly, shutting his eyes as Sanji’s fingers carded through his hair. “Not a chance I’d let you forget that.” he replied, his tone sparkling with amusement and affection.

“Go get my cig’s,” Sanji ordered tiredly, though he leaned into Zoro’s petting, clearly enjoying the moment.

“Too tired. You do it,” Zoro huffed, only to receive a sharp knee to the ribs. With a reluctant groan, he got up, grumbling all the way as he headed to fetch the cigarettes at the same place they always were.

===

Zoro watched as Sanji took a slow drag from his cigarette, noticing the subtle tremble still coursing through his spent body. Lying there naked and utterly gorgeous, his skin glowed with a golden hue from the soft lamplight around them. He deserved that froufrou shit he was always gushing about, and for once, Zoro didn’t mind the idea of taking the initiative.

He wasn’t used to this—tending to someone in the aftermath—but with Sanji, he wanted to try. Carefully, he untangled their intertwined limbs and rose to his feet, his muscles humming with a pleasant ache as he moved. The room settled into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft exhale of smoke and the steady rhythm of their breaths, grounding them both in the shared vulnerability of the moment.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Zoro muttered, his voice still rough from their exertion, but there was a gentleness there that hadn’t been present before. He looked around the bathroom, clearly unsure of what he was doing.

Sanji watched him, a small, amused smile playing on his lips despite the exhaustion. “You’ll need the bath salts, Marimo,” he said softly, pointing to a shelf behind Zoro vaguely from his view in the living room. “Top left. And the sachet of herbs too.”

Zoro grunted in acknowledgment, his hand finding the bath salts, and after a few moments of rummaging, the sachet. He seemed to be getting the hang of it. He turned on the tap, letting the water heat up before tossing in the sachet. The scent of lavender and eucalyptus quickly filled the air.

As the tub filled, Zoro turned back to Sanji, who was still lying on the couch, his body lax and spent. “Come on, cook,” Zoro said, his voice soft but insistent. He reached down, offering a hand to help Sanji up.

As Sanji settled into the hot water, the warmth immediately began to soothe his tired muscles, easing the tension that had built up over the night. His head lolled back against the edge of the tub, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. Zoro stood nearby, watching him with an intensity that was hard to ignore.

Sanji opened his eyes, catching the look on Zoro's face. "You’re really taking this aftercare thing seriously, huh?" he teased, though his voice was softer than usual, lacking its usual sharpness.

Zoro shrugged, leaning against the wall as he kept an eye on Sanji. “Figured it was about time I did something right,” he muttered, his tone gruff but laced with sincerity. He looked away for a moment, as if embarrassed by his own admission.

Sanji chuckled, a low, tired sound and closed his eyes. “You do plenty right, Marimo. Just didn’t expect you to be so good at this part.”

Zoro’s lips quivered in a small smile. “Don’t get used to it.”

Sanji let the silence hang for a moment, the warm water lapping at his skin as he contemplated his next words. There was something he’d been meaning to ask, something that had been on his mind since he’d sent that letter, and now, in the quiet intimacy of the moment, it felt like the right time.

“Zoro,” Sanji started, his voice hesitant, eyes fixed on the rippling surface of the water. “You know, I didn’t just call you here hoping to… fuck.”

Zoro’s gaze snapped back to Sanji’s, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his dark eyes. He didn’t say anything, waiting for Sanji to continue.

Sanji took a deep breath, the steam from the bath curling around him as he tried to find the right words. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. More than I’d like to admit.” He looked up, meeting Zoro’s eyes with a rare vulnerability. “And I wasn’t sure if… if you’d be interested in something more. Not just tonight, but… long term.”

Zoro’s expression softened, the usual hard lines of his face easing as he took in Sanji’s words. He moved closer, kneeling down beside the tub so he was at eye level with the cook. “What are you trying to say, Sanji?” he asked, his voice gentle but firm, wanting to be sure he understood.

Sanji swallowed, his throat suddenly dry despite the humidity of the room. “I wanted to see you again, to ask if you’d be willing… to give us a real chance. Not just the occasional night together, but something more.” His voice wavered slightly, betraying the uncertainty he felt. “I know we’ve been at each other’s throats for years, but… there’s something here, Zoro. I feel it, and I think you do too.”

Zoro was silent for a moment, his eyes searching Sanji’s face as if weighing the truth of his words. Then, slowly, he nodded. “You’re right,” he said, his voice low, but there was no hesitation in his tone. “I do feel it. And I’ve been thinking about you too, wondering if we could make something real out of this.”

Sanji’s heart skipped a beat at Zoro’s admission, satisfaction blooming in his chest. “So…stay?”

Zoro reached out, his hand warm as he brushed a damp strand of hair from Sanji’s face and cupped his stubbled jaw. “Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes holding Sanji’s with a steady intensity. “Let me stay with you, Sanji, but only if you mean it.”

Sanji smiled, a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

Zoro’s lips curved into a small smile of his own, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to Sanji’s forehead, the gesture surprisingly tender. “Then it’s settled,” he said quietly. “I told you once—I love you, Sanji.”

Sanji’s eyes fluttered shut, the relief and happiness washing over him like the warm water he was submerged in. He remembered that moment vividly, right before Zoro knocked him out at Thriller Bark to take on all of Luffy’s pain. It had been a brief whisper, almost lost in the chaos, but it had hit Sanji like a freight train. The words had haunted him ever since, buried deep but never forgotten.

“I remember,” Sanji whispered now, his voice thick with emotion. “You know I love you too, right?”

“Yeah,” Zoro replied, his voice carrying that familiar gruffness, though the warmth in his tone softened the edge. “It took some time but… I’m glad we’re finally on the same page.”

Sanji nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over him. “Me too,” he whispered, opening his eyes to meet Zoro’s once more. “Me too.”

Zoro watched for a moment, his eyes softening as he took in Sanji’s relaxed expression. Then, without a word, Zoro grabbed a washcloth, soaking it in the water before kneeling beside the tub. He hesitated only briefly before bringing the cloth to Sanji’s chest, wiping away the sweat and remnants of their earlier activities with a care that was almost foreign to him.

Sanji’s eyes fluttered open at the touch, and he couldn’t help but smile, something warm blooming in his chest at Zoro’s unexpected gentleness. “You’re not half bad at this, you know,” he teased lightly, but there was no bite in his words, only appreciation.

Zoro huffed in response, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a small, almost bashful smile. “Don’t get used to it.”

Sanji chuckled softly, letting his eyes drift shut again as Zoro continued his careful ministrations. Despite his earlier bravado, Zoro was surprisingly thorough, his calloused hands moving with a gentleness that contrasted starkly with his usual roughness. He washed Sanji’s chest, his arms, and even took care to clean around the places where Sanji’s skin was reddened from the force of their earlier passion.

“Lean forward,” Zoro instructed, his voice a low rumble. Sanji complied gratefully, and Zoro washed his back, the motions steady and soothing. It was such a simple act, but for the two of them, it felt deeply intimate, a silent affirmation of the bond they had rekindled.

When Zoro was satisfied that Sanji was clean, he drained the tub and reached for a towel. He stood, draping it over Sanji’s shoulders and helping him out of the tub with a surprising level of care. Sanji leaned into the warmth of the towel, the exhaustion catching up with him.

When Zoro was satisfied that Sanji was clean, he drained the tub and reached for a towel. He stood, draping it over Sanji’s shoulders and helping him out of the tub with surprising care. Sanji leaned into the warmth of the towel, the exhaustion finally catching up with him, but he still managed a soft smile as he assured Zoro he was fine.

After drying off, Sanji grabbed a toothbrush and began brushing his teeth, then wordlessly offered Zoro the same one after he finished rinsing it off, knowing the swordsman wasn’t one to fuss over such things. Zoro accepted it with a grunt of thanks after hopping out of the shower. The array of soaps and lotions on the shelf was overwhelming, so he had grabbed the one he recognized from their days back on the Sunny and scrubbed himself down fast.

Zoro joined Sanji at the sink, brushing his own teeth with the same straightforward efficiency that defined him. Both of them were still naked from their earlier activities, the air in the bathroom still warm and humid from the bath. Sanji, ever meticulous, handed Zoro a pair of loose boxers before slipping into his own grey briefs and a soft cotton T-shirt. Zoro, however, chose to remain shirtless, his muscular frame still glistening slightly in the low light.

When Zoro finished brushing, he glanced over at Sanji, who was fumbling with the blow dryer, clearly too tired to do much more than hold it. Zoro rolled his eyes in fond exasperation and took the dryer from him without a word. He gently guided Sanji to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, positioning himself behind the cook.

As Zoro began to blow-dry Sanji’s hair, his large hands moved through the blonde locks with a tenderness that was almost at odds with his usual demeanor. Each pass of his fingers was careful and deliberate, ensuring that Sanji’s hair dried evenly. The steady warmth from the dryer, combined with Zoro’s unexpectedly gentle touch, had Sanji nearly nodding off right there, his eyelids growing heavy.

As Zoro continued, he glanced down at Sanji’s reflection in the mirror. The sight of the usually sharp-tongued cook so thoroughly relaxed, his eyes half-lidded and his body completely at ease, brought a small, almost imperceptible smile to Zoro’s lips. This was a side of Sanji he rarely got to see—softened by exhaustion, trusting enough to let Zoro take care of him.

When he was done, Zoro turned off the dryer and set it aside, his hands still lingering in Sanji’s hair for a moment longer before he gently pulled him to his feet. “Let’s get you to bed,” Zoro said, his tone soft but leaving no room for argument.

Sanji, too tired to protest, let Zoro guide him towards the bedroom, the warmth of Zoro’s bare skin against his back a constant source of comfort. As they reached the bed, Sanji sighed contentedly, allowing Zoro to settle him onto the mattress. The sheets felt cool against his skin, a pleasant contrast to the warmth that still clung to him from the bath.

Zoro tugged the blankets up over Sanji, making sure he was comfortable before slipping into bed beside him. The mattress dipped slightly under Zoro’s weight as he lay down, his chest still bare, radiating heat.

As they lay there, Zoro turned to face Sanji, who had instinctively curled into his own side, trying not to impose. “C’mere,” Zoro said, his voice low and gruff, but there was an unmistakable warmth beneath the command. He reached out and dragged Sanji’s body closer, pulling him into his embrace.

Sanji couldn’t help but grin, his usual sharp edges softened by exhaustion and the comfort of Zoro’s proximity. Sleepy and smug, he relaxed into the embrace, his head pillowed against Zoro’s wonderfully large pecs, one arm draped across the swordsman’s broad chest. The steady rise and fall of Zoro’s breathing, the warmth of his skin, and the solidity of his hold all worked together to ease Sanji into a state of complete relaxation.

Zoro’s arm wrapped securely around Sanji, holding him close as if anchoring them both to the present moment. The swordsman let out a contented hum, his hand gently rubbing circles on Sanji’s back, the motion soothing in its simplicity.

Sanji’s eyelids grew heavy, the combined warmth and comfort lulling him into a drowsy state. “You really are a big softie,” he murmured, his words muffled against Zoro’s chest, but there was no bite to the teasing—just pure affection.

“Only for you, cook,” Zoro mumbled back, his voice thick with sleep.

With that, Sanji let his eyes drift shut, feeling safe and content in Zoro’s arms. The world outside ceased to exist as they lay there, wrapped up in each other. And as sleep finally claimed them, they both knew, deep down, that this was exactly where they were meant to be.

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Ty for reading! Not beta’d so srry for any spelling errors, its my first day out here!

#one piece #writing #roronoa zoro #zoro x sanji #litearture #zosan #lit #prose #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #zoro #one piece luffy #luffy #zoro and sanji

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