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Zoro was bored.
A deep, bone-aching boredom that seemed to claw at his skin. He tried training, tried cleaning and sharpening his swords, tried taking a nap in his favorite spot against the mast. But nothing seemed to work, so he got up with a soft groan since he’d been lying there for a while. He made his way to the galley to annoy the shit out of Sanji.
That was always fun.
“Oi shit cook!”
Sanji looked up from the sauce he was making. “Mosshead, get your dirty paws off my clean counter.” He grumbled.
Zoro stepped away from the counter, his eyes focused on the wine that Sanji had sitting on the counter. “What’cha cookin’?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t.”
Sanji glanced towards Zoro. “Then why are you here? You already had your booze today.”
“I’m bored,” Zoro admitted.
“Then why don’t you get started on cleaning?”
Zoro paused; his body didn’t move, but his mind raced with thought. He could help Sanji and start cleaning up, leaving him more time at night, or he could do something more distracting.
Ever since Nami and Ussop had locked them in the bunks to “figure out their shit and stop fighting every five minutes,” they had learned that, while they still fought, they could take out their frustrations with each other at night rather than ruining the ship… again.
Except for the fact that they’ve only gotten as far as kissing. Never anything more as someone needed something from one or the other. Sanji just wanted Zoro to bend him over a table and fuck him senseless. Each night, Sanji was left aching and wanting more, his own hand being the cause of his completion rather than Zoro as he wished for.
“I think I’d rather do something else,” Zoro said, moving behind Sanji as he cut the vegetables for that night's stew.
Zoro’s arms wrapped around his waist, his fingers dipping into the cook's pants. Sanji set his knife down, leaning back against the swordsman’s chest. Sanji let out a sigh when Zoro kissed his neck softly.
“What are you doing, Marimo?” Sanji asked.
“Entertaining myself,” Zoro mumbled. Sanji pushed him away, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before he picked up his knife, continuing his chopping.
“Go do that somewhere else,” Sanji scoffed. He really needed to get dinner at least simmering before Luffy stormed in, demanding food. “I need to get dinner started.”
Zoro let him work. For a couple of minutes, until Zoro grew tired of watching him dance around the kitchen. He stepped behind Sanji again, this time, he pulled the cook away from his prep.
“I think I want to do this instead,” Zoro said quietly. Sanji turned so that he was face to face with the green haired man.
Zoro pulled on Sanji’s jacket, pulling him against his own body. Fingers gentle and soft as they undid the buttons, pushing the shirt off his shoulders. Zoro’s hands radiated with the heat that drove Sanji insane as his fingers trailed down his arms and back up again.
“Zoro,” Sanji breathed out. The heat from Zoro ignited Sanji’s own desire to grow.
“Hmm? What is it, Prince?” Zoro murmured, pulling at Sanji’s shirt. Getting it off him, he trailed kisses down his neck before sucking a mark onto his shoulder. His hands splayed across his back, keeping him close.
“Want… need… more.” Sanji struggled to get a singular thought out.
Zoro stepped away from the counter, pulling Sanji with him until he felt the wall against his back. Letting out a moan into the kiss, Zoro raked his fingers through the cook's blonde hair, reveling in the softness that he’d grown to love.
“Your hair is always so soft,” Zoro mumbled, his fingers gripped onto the cook's hair, gentle as ever, tugging at it, receiving a soft moan in response.
“What?”
“Your hair.” Zoro met his eyes. “It’s always so soft. How do you do that?”
“You came into the kitchen, bored, distracting me from my dinner prep,” Sanji started, his fingers moving under Zoro’s shirt, feeling the rigid muscles. “And you want to talk about my hair?”
“Not really.” Zoro pulled Sanji in for another kiss, melting under his touch.
His gentle caresses over his sides and stomach, his soft lips placed upon Zoro’s, moving in such a way that he knew drove the swordsman crazy, made him melt under his touch.
“Then stop talking and just kiss me, idiot.”
Zoro did just that.
The kitchen was filled with the sounds of clothes being discarded and wanton moans. Sanji undid his haramaki before moving on to his shirt. Once he got Zoro free from that horrid piece of clothing, Sanji ran his hands over Zoro’s chest. Sanji savored the feeling of Zoro’s hard, muscular chest under his soft hands.
Sanji’s thumbs brushed over Zoro’s nipples, eliciting a sharp gasp from the swordsman. Capturing Zoro’s mouth in a searing kiss, he pinched the nipples, gaining a gasp, giving Sanji the chance to push his tongue inside his mouth.
The kiss was nothing special but Sanji wanted to commit every movement, every taste, every spark to memory. Pressing his hips against Zoro’s, he rubbed against his leg. Drawing out whines from the swordsman, he smirked, placing messy kisses down his throat and chest, sinking to his knees in the process.
Sanji gripped the back of his legs, his pants previously discarded, his nails digging into the muscle. He placed soft kisses up and down his legs, his eyes never leaving Zoro’s.
“Damn, Cook. You trying to earn points or something?” Zoro got out, his fingers raking through Sanji’s hair. Sanji hooked his fingers into his boxers, effortlessly pulling them off. His cock sprang free, almost hitting Sanji in the face.
“Fuck… you’re big,” Sanji said. A laugh escaped him.
He’s big.
That’s all you could think of to say? Really?
“Is that gonna be an issue?”
“Not one bit.” Sanji accentuated his point by wrapping his hand around Zoro’s cock, stroking it slowly. Drawing out a loud moan from the swordsman, Sanji placed a kiss on his hip, biting down hard.
Zoro’s head slammed into the wall as Sanji replaced his hand with his mouth, taking in inch by inch until he couldn’t fit anymore. Pulling out until just the tip remained in his mouth, Sanji flicked his tongue over the slit, drawing out an inhuman growl from Zoro.
“Fuck, you feel so good, cook.” Tightening his grip, Zoro thrusted into Sanji, chasing his release. Only to be met with disappointment when Sanji let go of him completely.
“I want you to fuck me.”
Those words were all Zoro needed to let go. He pulled Sanji up and pushed him towards the dining table, bending him over. Sanji let out a gasp as his face came in contact with the wood.
“Where’s your oil?”
“Why?”
“You want me to fuck you?” Zoro asked, getting a nod and a whimper in response. “Then I need to stretch you first, so I need oil to do that.”
“It’s on the counter next to the stove.”
Zoro’s absence was noted, if only for a second; Sanji didn’t dare to move from his spot. Returning, the glass hits the wood next to him.
“I’ll go slow at first, but I’m not gonna hold back.” Zoro’s words were sharp and dark. Sanji couldn’t stop the blood that rushed to his cock.
“Don’t ever hold back,” Sanji mumbled.
Zoro didn’t waste any more time pushing his legs apart before dropping down. His hands spreading his ass further, Sanji pushed back against Zoro, a whimper escaping him.
“What do you need, Prince?”
“You. More. Please.”
“Good.”
Zoro slicked up his fingers with the oil before prodding at the cook's hole. Watching it react to his touch, he slowly pushed one finger inside him. Pumping his finger in and out slowly, careful not to hurt him, Zoro slid in another finger. He slowly moved his fingers in a scissoring motion, opening Sanji up more and more.
Getting him ready to take his cock.
To take him fully.
To feel him without pain or too much discomfort for the cook.
“Shit! Zoro,” Sanji gasped at the third finger sliding in.
“You’re doing so well, Sanji. So good.” Zoro leaned down, placing gentle kisses anywhere he could reach. “Look at you, practically sucking me in.”
Sanji gripped the edge of the table, his nails scraping against the wood. He knew he should stop it. Go somewhere more private, somewhere they couldn’t be interrupted, but he didn’t care. Let the others get traumatized if they hear the sounds and still choose to walk in.
He had Zoro’s fingers inside him, his cock throbbed with pleasure, only getting more with each thrust or curl that the swordsman gave him. He gave Sanji the amount of pleasure that he could only dream of, fantasize about.
“Doing so good for me. Just a little bit longer.”
“I wan’ you now.” Sanji slurred.
“Just a bit more, love.”
The word love coming from Zoro and being directed at him made his heart soar. His already dizzy head got worse as the word repeated in his mind. Love. he longed to hear it and now he has.
“I don’t care if it hurts. I need you,” Sanji rushed out.
“You will wait,” Zoro stated, his voice firm. Sanji whined in protest, pushing his hips back. Desperate for that touch, that friction.
After a minute, Zoro slid his finger free, grabbed the bottle of oil and poured a generous amount onto his palm. Stroking himself, he leaned down and kissed Sanji’s back, rubbing his free hand over his shoulders. He pushed his cock in slowly.
With each inch that was slowly inserted, Sanji let out the most obscene moans Zoro had ever heard come from a human being. Zoro chuckled, leaning down.
“Pathetic. I’m barely inside and you’re already such a mess for me,” Zoro growled low in his throat. He grabbed onto Sanji’s earlobe, biting down.
Once he was fully in, he moved slowly and teasingly, pulling out just enough for the tip to remain inside, then slamming back in.
“Fuck! Yes! Yes! More!” Sanji cried out, his knuckles turning white from his grip on the table. His mouth fell open, a string of moans and whines came out as Zoro continued to pound into him.
“God, you feel so good, Cook. So tight. So perfect,” Zoro muttered, his grip rough and bruising on Sanji’s hips, keeping him pinned in place under Zoro. “Mine.”
“Oh god! Zoro. Please, please, please.” Sanji’s words dwindled into a series of moans. Zoro’s hand moved up his back and tangled in his hair, tugging roughly.
No. He needed to see him. This was the first time they’d be having sex. Zoro wanted to see his face. Wanted to see him, all of him.
Zoro moved quickly as he slipped out of Sanji, within seconds he had the cook sitting at the edge of the table, his legs pulled up to his chest. Zoro kissed him deeply as he inserted his cock again. His hands pressed against Sanji’s legs, keeping them in place.
“I want to see you,” Zoro said quietly. Moving his hips in a teasing pace, he relished in the slow noises he drew from Sanji. “My pretty boy.”
“Pretty?” Sanji repeated. “Very pretty,” Zoro muttered against Sanji’s mouth. He moved faster, his cock rubbing against the prostate just enough for Sanji to see stars. Sanji wrapped his arms around Zoro’s shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss.
“Zo - fuck - I’m gonna cum.” Sanji whimpered, precum leaking onto his stomach. Zoro smiled at the sight, kissing him once more.
Zoro moved one hand to wrap around Sanji’s cock, pumping in time with his thrusts. “Cum for me.”
Sanji let himself spill onto himself. Ropes of hot, white liquid covered both his and Zoro’s chests. Zoro followed after a few more thrusts, spilling inside Sanji. The smell of sex filled the air as Zoro pulled out from Sanji, pressing his forehead against the cook’s as they both caught their breath.
“Are you okay?” Zoro asked softly. Sanji nodded, his words lost as he came down from his high.
The swordsman quite enjoyed seeing Sanji like this—a complete mess because of him.
“Thank you,” Sanji whispered, his hands tangling in Zoro’s hair, his fingers raking through the green hair with a small smile.
Sanji fell back against the table, his legs dangling off the edge of the table. He didn’t care that he would have to scrub the table before dinner took place. He finally had Zoro and it was even better than what he’d ever hoped for.
The pair had a momentary silence before Luffy burst into the kitchen, causing them to scramble for their clothes and rush out an explanation. Luffy's laughter cut them off, red faced and burning hot.
“I already knew!” Luffy said through his laughter.
“What? How?” Zoro asked, tying his haramaki back into place.
“Sanji had bruises even when we weren’t in battle! Nami told me you’re boyfriends!” Luffy ran towards the stove. “Oh! Stew!”
“Not done yet!” Sanji pushed Luffy away from the pot. “I will call you when it’s ready.”
Luffy pouted but ran off without much complaint. Sanji turned towards Zoro, who had now held out his jacket.
“So we’re boyfriends now?” Sanji asked, grabbing Zoro by the waist and pulling him in.
“In your dreams, cook,” Zoro whispered, kissing him softly.
“Excuse me, you were the one who defiled me on the kitchen table,” Sanji spat out.
“Defiled? I recall you kept asking for more.” Zoro stepped closer.
“Shut up.” Sanji grabbed the cleaning supplies and threw them towards Zoro. “Scrub the table while I finish dinner.”
Sanji’s eyes stayed glued to Zoro’s ass while he cleaned the table. Zoro cleared his throat, sending a wink towards the cook. “See something you like?”
“Maybe.”
Zoro moved to stand next to Sanji as he stirred the stew one last time, adding the last bit of the spices to the pot. Zoro wrapped his arms around Sanji’s torso, pressing soft kisses to his neck. “Smells really good.”
“We cannot do anything else right now.”
“I know.”
“So then get off.”
“Nope.”
“Zoro,” Sanji whispered, his head tilting to the side. “Get off me and I’ll join you for your watch tonight.”
“Fine,” Zoro groaned, taking his place at the table.
The kitchen was soon flooded with conversation and chaos. Sanji threatened to make only vegetarian meals if Luffy stole food from one more plate, Nami upped Zoro’s debt for who knows what, and Robin showed interest in the newest invention by the ship's “Great Captain Ussop” and Chopper.
Sanji and Zoro didn’t dare to name what they had, but the looks they shared over dinner, the way Zoro stole food from Sanji’s plate with only a small laugh in response. The way they tangled their feet together under the table and the way they sat almost on top of each other.
That said it all.