Chapter Text
***
The air of Sabaody smelled of bubbles, mangrove sap, and adventure.
But for Zoro, the moment his boots touched the deck of the Thousand Sunny, the whole world narrowed to a single scent: Cinnamon, black tobacco, the sea, and beneath all that… something warm.
The Alpha instinct hit his chest like a punch. The beast he’d kept chained for two years with training, sake, and sheer damn willpower woke all at once, clawing at his insides, making every hair on his body stand on end.
"He’s here."
Zoro stood rooted in the middle of the deck. His hand moved on its own to the hilt of Enma, but it wasn’t a combat reflex. It was a reflex to stop himself from bolting toward the kitchen like an animal in heat.
Because he wanted to.
The bond in his chest, the one that had never fully gone out, now roared like a wildfire. It sent waves of heat straight to his groin, dried his mouth, quickened his pulse until he felt it in his temples.
Two years.
Two years without seeing him, without smelling him, without touching him, without burying his nose in that hollow between his neck and shoulder where the Omega gland distilled that scent that drove any Alpha mad.
His scent.
His Omega.
The one burned into his body’s memory.
Behind him, the galley door opened.
Zoro didn’t turn. He couldn’t. If he turned and saw him, if he saw those long legs sheathed in the black suit, if he saw that pale neck where the mark of his teeth would still be… he wouldn’t answer for his actions.
—You’re late, Marimo.
Sanji’s voice ran down his back like a hot tongue. That mocking, sharp tone that had sparked so many fights. But now, after two years without hearing it, it sounded like damned celestial music.
Zoro took a deep breath. Mistake.
The scent intensified. Now it wasn’t just cinnamon and tobacco. It smelled like Sanji. The light sweat beneath the impeccable suit. The warmth of his skin heating up under the Sabaody sun. And underneath all that, barely perceptible, a bitter note. A trace of sadness the blond hid behind layers of arrogance and smoke.
His Omega was there.
And Zoro’s Alpha could pick up tiny traces of sadness coming from the blond; he understood, he probably smelled the same. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to corner him against the kitchen counter, rip that suit off once and for all, and lick every inch of his skin until the bitter scent disappeared and only the sweet one remained, his own, the one that screamed mine, mine, mine.
Instead, Zoro turned around.
And almost regretted it.
Sanji was leaning against the kitchen doorframe with studied elegance. The unlit cigarette between his lips. Arms crossed over his chest, stretching the white shirt fabric over shoulders broader than before. The blond fringe covered one eye, but the visible one — blue like the damn calm ocean — was fixed on Zoro with an intensity that was anything but calm.
He was devouring him with his gaze.
Sanji’s eyes roamed over Zoro’s body with insulting slowness. The left eye closed by the new scar. The broader shoulders. The thicker arms beneath the open shirt. The chest sculpted by two years of hellish training under Mihawk.
Sanji’s pupils dilated.
Zoro saw it.
He saw how the blond inhaled his scent — steel, sake, the salty aroma of onigiri — and how his pupils suddenly blew wide, darkening the blue until it was almost black. He saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. He saw the faint tremor in his fingers when he raised the unlit cigarette to his lips.
"It affects him," Zoro thought with savage satisfaction.
"My scent still affects him."
—You arrived too early, Cook —he said, and his own voice sounded deeper, rougher, tinged with the Alpha growl he struggled so hard to contain.
Sanji flicked the lighter. The flame lit his face for a second: the sharp cheekbones, the tense jaw, the poorly concealed dark circles under a light layer of makeup. And his lips. Those damn lips Zoro remembered biting until they bled.
—Yeah, well. I didn’t feel like staying any longer on the island where I landed —Sanji said, exhaling smoke to one side—. So I came as soon as I could.
Zoro took a step forward without thinking. His body demanded he shorten the distance.
—Where did you land?
Sanji took another drag; he was nervous.
—What do you care. —He answered defensively. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned the island.
Zoro took another step. They were now less than two meters apart. The space between them vibrated with the electricity of clashing pheromones.
—Where did you land?
Sanji lifted his chin. Defiant. But his body betrayed him. His chest rose and fell faster than normal. The tips of his ears, barely visible under the blond fringe, were tinted a telltale pink.
He was getting worked up. So this is what it felt like to see your ex again?
—On an island full of Alphas.
Lie.
Zoro frowned.
—What?
Sanji smiled.
—You should see your face.
The bond throbbed in both their chests at the same time.
—Really..?
—What do you care, Marimo —Sanji dodged again. Even though he could feel his inner Omega stirred up and excited.
Zoro could feel something like an erection pressing against the fabric of his pants. He cursed silently. He’d gone two years without this happening. Two years without an erection that wasn’t brought on by his own hands and the blurry memory of a blond body beneath him.
And now, just from smelling him, just from watching him breathe, he was already as hard as a teenager.
Sanji noticed it too. Of course he noticed it. His Omega sense of smell was sharper. His eyes dipped for a second — just one damn second — to the obvious bulge in Zoro’s pants, and his own breath hitched.
Zoro saw Sanji press his thighs together, almost imperceptibly, under the black suit pants. Saw him wet his lips with his tongue.
"Mark him again."
—Yeah, well… —Zoro cleared his throat, forcing his voice to sound human and not like a rutting animal—. You’re right. I’m not interested.
Another lie the bond unmasked with a lash of heat in both their groins.
Sanji let out a short, humorless laugh. Then crushed the cigarette against the sole of his shoe with contained violence.
—Good for you, Marimo.
Yeah, Sanji wouldn’t recommend bonding with someone. You could end up like this.
At that moment, a shout echoed above the mangroves.
—ZOROOOO! SANJIIII! I GOT HERE FIRST!
Luffy fell from the sky like a rubber projectile, landing between them with a crash that shattered the bubble of sexual tension like a bucket of cold water.
Zoro stepped back, cursing under his breath. Sanji spun abruptly toward the kitchen, hiding his flushed face and the trembling of his hands.
—I’m going to prepare the welcome banquet —he announced with a voice that tried to be steady but cracked on the last word.
Before disappearing behind the door, Sanji paused for a second. He didn’t turn around. But he spoke.
—You’ve changed, Moss Head.
Zoro swallowed.
—So have you, Curly Brows.
—I don’t know if for the better.
The door closed.
Zoro stayed planted on the deck, his heart hammering against his ribs, his painful erection straining against his pants, and Sanji’s scent clinging to his nostrils like a drug.
He lifted a hand and rubbed his chest, right where the bond throbbed with unbearable heat.
Two years.
Two years believing that time and distance would cure everything.
And five minutes on the same ship were enough for his body to scream what his pride refused to admit.
"He wants him."
"He still wants him."
He crossed his arms, trying to ignore his inner Alpha that had broken loose after seeing his Omega again.
"And he wants you too…"
Luffy chattered around him without Zoro hearing a single word.
He could only think about the blond behind the galley door.
His trembling hands.
His pretty face. Damn, he was even more beautiful than before.
The bond mark that, he was certain, was still on that pale neck.
"Win him back."
And for the first time, Zoro agreed.
***