Chapter Text
‘I get it now,’ Sanji pants, managing to squeeze the words out in between gasps and moans as Zoro practically devours him, nipping gently enough at the skin on his neck not to mark, but hard enough to drive Sanji crazy. ‘Point… well made.’
Zoro’s arms are out of his own sleeves, and he’s slid them below Sanji’s beautiful blue yukata and around his slender, perfectly toned torso. His hands are roving around his back, squeezing and massaging just the right places. Paired with the attention his mouth is giving Sanji’s face and neck, it’s like he’s insatiable. As if he’s ravenous, and Sanji is a gourmet meal.
‘Do you?’ Zoro asks between a nip and a kiss. ‘I don’t think you do.’
Sanji gasps as Zoro’s teeth and lips brush against a sensitive spot, and Zoro just doubles down, sucking and licking at it like there’s no tomorrow.
‘Yes! I do!’ Sanji gasps, readjusting his arms on Zoro’s shoulders, involuntarily digging his fingers into his skin. ‘I can still… I can still feel. I… Zoro…’
Zoro hums against Sanji’s skin, and pulls back to look at him. Sanji’s hair is a perfect mess, his cheeks are flushed and his lips are glossy with saliva. He’s beautiful.
‘You still look like you,’ Zoro says, then takes Sanji’s lower lip between his teeth before kissing him deeply, if only for a few seconds. ‘You still taste like you. Sound like you. Feel like you.’
‘Shut up, Mosshead,’ Sanji says. ‘You say such romantic things for being such a brutish oaf, it’s giving me whiplash.’
‘I can say filthy things instead, if that’s what you want,’ Zoro says with a dangerous smile. The groan Sanji lets out this time is more the exasperated kind.
‘Save that for later,’ he says. ‘Right now, I just want this.’
He pulls Zoro into another kiss, and the swordsman leans into him, raking his fingers through his hair as he does so. It’s amazing how gentle he can be while still being him . Sanji can feel the strength in the grip he has on him, in how he presses against him and picks him up or holds him down, yet he handles him with so much care, never too rough, never too gentle. He always knows what to say, and when nothing he can say can get through Sanji’s bullshit, he knows exactly what to do to convey what words cannot. He’s a man of action, after all. It’s his speciality.
Sanji gasps, and Zoro must think it’s his excellent kissing technique that draws it out of him, but it isn’t. Sanji gasps because he finally realises that Zoro loves him, really, truly loves him, and that Sanji loves him back.
‘Are you ok?’
Sanji is about to follow Zoro’s lips as he pulls away, only opening his eyes when he hears his voice, at first a bit confused at the question. A pair of rough, warm thumbs wipe at his cheeks, and he realises that he’s teared up. He brings his own hands up to dry his face, nodding as he does so.
‘Yeah, I…’ he finds Zoro’s hands with his own and links their fingers together. ‘I just love you, you big oaf. And… and I think… I think you love me, too.’
Zoro pulls Sanji’s hands up and plants a kiss on them, not taking his eyes off of Sanji’s.
‘Glad you finally figured that out, cook,’ he says, smiling against his skin. ‘What gave it away? The unwavering devotion, or the amazing se-’
Sanji, whose hands are conveniently close to Zoro’s face to begin with, plants his palm against his mouth and pushes his face away.
‘Way to ruin a moment, Mosshead,’ he grumbles. ‘That’s what I get for baring my soul-’
Zoro frees himself from Sanji’s grip and pulls him into another kiss, a softer, more tender one this time. He only pulls away enough to be able to talk.
‘I’m sorry, my love,’ he says, his voice deep and breathy, and Sanji’s heart goes for a loop hearing those words said with that voice. This can’t go on like this. Sanji presses a forefinger against Zoro’s lips and pushes him slowly away until he can actually see his entire face. He seems surprised, the look giving a rather endearing quality to his otherwise rough exterior, but Sanji resists swooning over it just for the moment.
‘Shut it, you sappy sod,’ he says, with no real bite. ‘If you keep saying all the sweet things, what will be left for me to say?’
‘You don’t have to say anything.’
‘But I want to,’ Sanji pouts. He pushes Zoro again so that they’re as level as possible, although at some point they’ve managed to arrange themselves (or Zoro did) so that Sanji was in his lap, which, given their near identical height, puts Sanji’s eye-level a bit higher than Zoro’s. ‘I think your green hair is stupid, like a patch of mossy grass growing on your head, and if anyone touched it in the wrong way, I’d stomp on their fingers until they’re shattered. I think you’re a hulking brute, and damn me to hell if I don’t give you the food to help you stay exactly the same. I think your whole three swords style thing is childish and dumb, but if anyone were to take your prized weapons away from you, I’d go through hell to get them back. I think those three earrings of yours are the only sensible fashion choice you’ve ever made without help and they’re fucking hot. I think you’re ridiculously romantic and sweet and perfect for someone so profoundly idiotic, and I wouldn’t want you to be any other way.’
Zoro’s single, open eye is round and glimmering with wonder as he stares at Sanji, his lips slightly parted and curled ever so slightly upwards at the corner. Sanji smiles a self-satisfied smile, and crosses his arms, which makes him have to balance with only his legs to stay upright atop Zoro’s lap.
‘Yeah, that shut you up,’ he says, smugly. ‘Two can play at this game, jerk.’
Zoro laughs, low and breathy, reaching to the back of Sanji’s head and giving it a gentle tug to pull Sanji’s forehead against his, until their breaths are mingling.
‘What a poet,’ he says, and Sanji can sense so many different kinds of affection in the soft, breathy tone of his words, taking much of the edge away from his sarcasm. His chest swells with pride at the thought of making Zoro feel this way. Zoro takes Sanji’s hand in his once more, and Sanji watches as he plays with his fingers in his lap, brushing his own fingers against them as if to memorise how they feel to the touch. ‘You know, I never thought about romance in my life before you. I thought it just wasn’t for me, and normally, it wouldn’t be, but… when I realised how I felt about you, there was nothing in me that wanted to resist. It just made sense, when it should have made no sense at all. I don’t think I could say all these “sweet things” to anyone but you.’
Sanji’s smiles warmly, letting his shoulders relax as he leans a bit more against Zoro. He’s staring at their hands, too. They fit together so well.
‘I know, Mossy,’ he says. ‘Me, I say the sweetest, corniest things to every lady I can, and I usually mean every word, because women are the universe’s gift to the world, but you… you’re my gift. And I can barely find the words to say to you most of the time.’
Sanji chuckles awkwardly at his own, clumsy words.
‘Fuck, I thought I’d be better at this,’ he says. ‘Certainly better than you.’
Zoro huffs out a laugh, too.
‘It was a good effort,’ he says. ‘I’ll take it. I love it.’
They sit in blissful silence for a while, enjoying each other’s presence, until Zoro’s stomach makes itself known to both of them with a comical rumble. Sanji practically jumps to his feet.
‘Crap, what time is it?’ He asks, rushing to fix his yukata and his hair as best he can without a mirror. ‘I need to make dinner.’
Zoro straightens up, slipping his arms back into his sleeves with calm composure.
‘You better hurry, before Luffy starts complaining,’ he says as he stands up and stretches a bit. Sanji finishes fussing with his appearance and plants a quick kiss on Zoro’s cheek before hurrying out the door, already thinking about what to prepare.
Someone’s getting his favourite dishes made tonight.
And the night after that.
And maybe the one after that.