LOG POST: Zoro and Sanji
Who: Zoro and Sanji
What: FIGHTING. And also...very much not fighting.
Where: The Crow's Nest on Thousand Sunny.
When: The evening of January 19th.
Rating: PG-13ish
Zoro stood at a window with his back to the trap door, resting his eyes absently on the ocean in the distance. Several strips of bandages circled his arms and more showed above the collar of his dark shirt, but he was barely aware of them. He just thumbed Wadou's hilt as he waited for the cook and tried not to think. He'd done enough thinking.
Sanji was sort of taking his time getting up to the crow’s nest. For no particular reason, he certainly wasn’t stalling or anything. Being nervous was one thing - which he was, admittedly - but he was damned well going to shove it aside and not be pathetic about this. Taking a deep breath, he finally pushed his way through the trapdoor, looking around until he spotted Zoro. “…Hey, marimo,” he said, pulling himself the rest of the way into the room. He straightened up and shoved his hands into his pockets, watching the other man somewhat warily.
He'd heard the clamber of the door, but it wasn't until Sanji spoke that Zoro glanced over his shoulder, then turned around. “Hey.” He watched the cook's careful body language for a long minute, then strode toward the center of the room, drawing Kitetsu and Shuusui fluidly. He stopped at a familiar distance from the other man and shifted into a loose ready stance, body relaxed but face and eyes neutral and veiled. Kitetsu raised in a lazy arc to point at the cook's nose. “Let's spar.”
“…Ain’t a lot of room up here,” Sanji said, automatically shifting his weight onto his back foot and nearly crossing his eyes as his focus moved to Zoro’s sword briefly, before snapping back to Zoro again. “But okay.” He tapped his other foot absently, cocking his head to the side a bit as he waited for Zoro’s opening move. Small room, and he had two swords out. Damn. This was gonna be interesting.
“There's enough.” It seemed like the cook would be at a disadvantage, the dimensions of the room curtailing his vertical movement and leaving practically everywhere within the range of Zoro's swords, but Zoro wasn't particularly concerned about being unfair. Sanji was Sanji, he'd find a way to make it work. Without another word, Zoro lowered his shoulder and darted forward, heavy Shuusui flashing toward the cook's stomach.
Fuck, okay, this was going to be more of a pain in the ass than interesting, Sanji realized as he lunged to the side to dodge and found his shoulder already nearly up against a wall. He ignored it, landing lightly on one foot and immediately swinging his other leg around at Zoro's side, knowing full well the kick was going to be blocked.
Zoro barely managed to keep from grinning darkly as he reversed his grip on Kitetsu and deflected the kick with the flat of the blade. It'd been more than a month since they'd been able to fight properly, and even confined as they were, Zoro's blood was already starting to zing. He cut shallowly up at the cook's neck with Shuusui from the opposite side-he had no intention of slicing into the wall. His eyes were focused on Sanji's face, watching for tiny tells of his next move and allowing his peripheral vision to register the rest of the cook's movements.
Sanji cursed under his breath and arched backwards away from Zoro's sword, his torso twisting in midair as he pulled his hands out of his pockets, planting one of them firmly on the ground as he fell backwards to steady himself. As annoying as this was, it was still…good. Not exactly what he’d been expecting, but maybe it was a testament of how fucked up they were that Zoro wanting to kick his ass actually seemed like a promising thing. Sanji kept his foot braced against Zoro’s sword as he let his weight settle quickly onto his hand, then as his other sword was still finishing its upward slice, he bent both knees in and swiftly aimed a mule-kick squarely at Zoro’s stomach.
The instant he saw Sanji's knees bend, Zoro crouched and pushed off backward, spine arching slightly so that when the kick shot out like a cannon it connected only glancingly as he was moving away. He quickly slid to a controlled stop, and rather than pause to regroup, came back with a scything diagonal slice from over his shoulder, blades held closely parallel.
There wasn't much time to recover after that move, and Sanji had only just regained his footing again when Zoro came at him. He braced himself for impact, lifting one leg and blocking the swords with the sole of his shoe, sliding backwards from the force of Zoro’s attack until his back hit the wall. “The hell’s with the sudden urge to spar anyway?” he grunted, using the wall as leverage to get some power behind his foot so he could shove Zoro’s swords away.
Zoro didn't answer through a series of rapid exchanges, pulling away from Sanji's shove and ducking under the prompt follow-up roundhouse to the head. He launched cross-cut slashes in response that the cook evaded by flipping neatly over Zoro's head, leaving enough room to spin around and level a hammering kick at Zoro's shoulder on his way down. The swordsman swiftly turned and caught it on the base of Kitetsu's blade, then whipped his arm out to force Sanji away. The cook twisted like a cat in midair and touched down on the other side of the room, and Zoro didn't immediately follow. Instead, after a moment he slowly unsheathed Wadou and clamped her between his teeth, finally letting a knife-edged grin emerge. “It's a reminder,” he said, low voice vibrating around the white sword's hilt.
“...You've gotta be fucking kidding me,” Sanji muttered, taking in the familiar image of Zoro with all three swords out. All three. Shit. He fell back into a defensive pose, his entire body humming with anticipation and a sort of mounting energy that he wasn’t able to fully utilize in the confined space. “A reminder of what?” he asked, speaking louder this time as he kept his gaze fixed on Zoro.
A glint of setting sunlight flashed up the length of Wadou's blade as Zoro tilted his head slightly. “Of who and how we are,” he returned, adrenaline moving through him in a slow, enjoyable roll. He added under his breath, “Before we get into how we could be.” Then his eyes sharpened again. “Let's go.” With that he flew forward, slashing all three katana at once.
Sanji frowned in confusion when Zoro muttered something, but he didn’t have time to work out what exactly he’d said before he had to block against Zoro’s attack. He kept mostly on the defensive after that, ducking and dodging, catching Zoro’s swords with the flat of his foot and occasionally shoving them out of the way so he could get in a few kicks of his own. When his back hit the wall again, he scowled, then waited until Zoro came at him with another three-sword attack before he dropped to the ground, snapping his leg around in an attempt to knock the other man’s feet out from under him.
Zoro jerked his knees up to crouch in midair, letting the cook's leg whip by underneath, but his forward momentum carried him into the next kick. He blocked with two swords but was still launched back. Rolling after he hit the ground to regain his feet, he shot up fluidly and they were off again. Zoro savored the rush as Sanji matched him move for move even as the swordsman steadily increased the speed and intensity of his attack. Their focus strung wire-tight between them and they had both started to sweat.
They clashed again and broke away from a quick exchange that left the cuts on Zoro's upper arm bleeding through their bandages, and the cook's shirt was cut open from collarbone to shoulder. The skin underneath bore a long red line, but Wadou obeyed her master's will and hadn't drawn blood.
Sanji hissed as he drew back, eyes dropping for a second to take in the damage done to his shirt. “Asshole,” he growled, launching himself forward once more and lashing out with a vicious round of kicks. “Don’t slice up my clothes, goddammit, I liked this shirt!” He ducked underneath Zoro’s next slashing attack, and then sprung into a back handspring to give himself a little room. But then Zoro was dashing forward again in the next second, and Sanji met his swords with a solid kick directly against the blades, holding his foot in place for a moment so he could catch his breath.
Zoro smirked wordlessly at the pissed off expression on the cook's face, and absolutely did not let him stop to breathe. Instead, without warning he pulled a ridiculous spinning move that was more suited to battles where his eyes were shadowed by his bandana. The result had Sanji hitting the wall, pinned with two swords hovering dangerously low, ready to react to any attempt at a kick, and Wadou kissing his throat. And then Zoro stopped moving, six inches separating them and their eyes locked, both panting lightly.
Growling again, Sanji was half ready to slam his knee into Zoro’s side when the other man abruptly paused. Sanji went still in response, letting his leg relax after a moment when Zoro made no move to look away from him. Another beat passed and he swallowed against the blade at his throat, brow furrowing just a bit as he waited for Zoro to say something.
“So this is us. Normal.” The words, thrumming and slightly out of breath, resonated down Wadou's length, tickling Sanji's neck as Zoro kept his gaze steady. A long beat later the swordsman broke the tension and pulled back a step, sheathing Shuusui and Kitetsu in the blink of an eye and transferring Wadou from his mouth to his hand. “And we could be fine like this. Probably.”
Sanji grimaced a bit and let out a long, slow breath after Zoro spoke, leaning back slightly against the wall and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Depends on what your definition of fine is,” he muttered, watching Zoro carefully through sweaty strands of hair he hadn't bothered to sweep back into place yet. “But sure, alright. Reminder received.”
Zoro nodded and spun his white sword once before sheathing it, as well. After a brief pause, he stepped forward once more and clapped Sanji's face between both hands, then held it, squishing his cheeks in more than a little. “If we give this another try,” he said, ignoring the cook's highly indignant noise, “You'll need to keep your word. That can't happen again, or this-other thing-will break. For good.” He stared at Sanji with dark eyes.
Whatever annoyed words Sanji had been about to say regarding Zoro’s manhandling quickly piled up in his throat and got stuck there. He settled for nodding somewhat stupidly after Zoro was finished, his eyes a little wider than normal. “It won’t,” he tried to say, but talking through squished cheeks was a little difficult and a lot incomprehensible. Scowling, Sanji reached up and yanked one of Zoro’s hands away from his face, holding tightly onto his wrist, and said again in a rush: “It won’t, I swear it won’t, I wouldn’t do that to you again, I-I shouldn’t have the first time- I’m sorry.”
The cook's first smooshed attempt at speaking made Zoro's lips want to quirk up, but only briefly. At the rest, the hand still on Sanji's face dropped to touch his neck, trailed down a little, then fell away. “Alright. Good. As long as that's-that.” He tugged the other hand lightly but finally left it trapped in the cook's grasp and let out a breath. “And I did hear you the first ten or so times you apologized. You can stop now.”
“…Just wanted to make sure it got through to you,” Sanji mumbled. “I don’t think you get how much I-” He broke off, shifting his gaze away, and belatedly remembered to let go of Zoro’s wrist. His hand dropped to his side, fingers drumming anxiously against the wall behind him as he gave his head a tiny shake. “Anyway… That’s definitely-that.”
Zoro just repeated, “Alright,” letting the cut off sentence go. Whatever it was, he didn't need to hear it, even if he was curious. And once his tongue untangled a bit it was-simpler than he'd thought, to just go ahead and say, “Then-you're insane and you...still make me insane, and I want to.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, focusing on Sanji's eyes even though the cook wasn't looking back at him, and clarified, “Try again.”
Sanji’s gaze snapped back to Zoro so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash. “You-really?” he said, straightening up off the wall some and then halting uncertainly. His stomach was doing some sort of weird clenching thing that he steadfastly ignored. “Seriously??”
“No, after all this I'm pulling your damn leg,” Zoro said, rolling his eyes. “Yes, really, seriously.” He pulled a hand out of his pocket to rub at the back of his neck. “...Problem?” He was...pretty sure he knew the answer to that, but ended up holding a tense breath anyway, peering at Sanji sideways.
“Dumbass,” Sanji murmured, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, problem. I’m leading you on like you’re pulling my leg.” He pushed further off the wall and took a step forward, mirroring Zoro’s pose and shoving his hands back into his own pockets in a too-casual way. “Obviously there ain’t a problem, marimo.”
“Good,” Zoro said, his gaze lingering on the cook's small smile until he realized he was leaning forward unconsciously. He rocked back on his heels a bit and cleared his throat before lifting an eyebrow and adding dryly, “No orgies, either. Even if I'm invited, too.”
Sanji snorted, a real smile breaking out over his face this time before he could stop it. “Damn,” he returned just as dryly. “You mean I’m stuck having you all to myself?”
“Looks like it. Poor you,” Zoro deadpanned. Then the corner of his mouth twitched up and he looked away in an automatic effort to keep it hidden.
“Seriously. The stuff I gotta put up with.” Sanji shifted his weight from one foot to the other, watching Zoro in amusement. He let his grin shift into something more like a smirk, then masked that with an innocent look that he directed at the ceiling. “Well, now that that’s taken care of, guess I can go start dinner…” he said, and then took two steps in the direction of the trapdoor.
Zoro might've considered letting the idiot cook leave-just for being an idiot-if his body hadn't moved to cover those two steps without his permission. He blinked and looked down to where Sanji's tie was wrapped around his hand and pulled taut, which he didn't even remember doing. Then he looked up into the cook's half-lidded blue eye and gave a mental shrug. “Dinner can wait a minute,” he murmured, tugging Sanji closer and leaning in to touch their mouths together.
Sanji’s breath hitched when they connected at last, and for a long moment he just let Zoro kiss him. He stood there as his mind heaved a giant sigh of relief, suddenly feeling lighter than he had in weeks, and let himself enjoy being able to have the other man this close again. It was easy to relax into it and grin slightly against Zoro’s mouth, to kiss back lightly and let his own hand curl into the material of Zoro’s shirt. But there was a rapidly growing need to be closer to him, and when he couldn’t ignore the urge to really kiss Zoro any longer, he pressed up against him a little more insistently. Then, with a faint feeling of finally echoing through his head, he slipped his free arm behind the back of Zoro’s neck and pulled him in to kiss him hungrily.
“Mmph,” Zoro said as he was pulled in, flailing just a little before he let go of the tie to rest his hands on Sanji's slim hips. His heart started to pound as their lips tangled and clung feverishly, and when his mouth fell open to let the insistent cook in, he went lightheaded. This...He hadn't been sure he was going to be able to do any of this again, not with Sanji, and now that they were...Ah, the wet, velvet slide, the slick sounds-a small shudder ran through him and his hands tightened, thumbs pressing into the sensitive muscle inside the cook's hipbones.
Sanji made a low, pleased sound in the back of his throat, tilting his head to the side a bit as Zoro let him deepen the kiss. He still almost couldn’t believe that this was really happening, that Zoro hadn’t just told him it was all over between them. But it was, it was happening, it was real, Zoro was all strong lines and hard muscle against him, and fuck it was amazing. Sanji was tempted to just keep kissing him for the rest of forever, but he broke off eventually, forehead pressed against Zoro’s and still holding on tight, and tried to catch his breath. “So…” he panted as he cast about for something to say. “…Guess you remembered ties do come in handy.”
Adrenaline from the kiss had piled on top of the leftover surge from their spar, so Zoro tried to even out his breathing and mumbled, “The noose has its uses.” Mumbled into Sanji's lips, actually, as he stole another kiss, brief and languid, because really, all he had to do was tilt his head, it was way too easy. After a moment he exerted some willpower and turned aside, a sighing breath stirring blond hair. “...Now you can go make dinner,” he said into Sanji's ear, but contrary to his words, made no move to pull back or let go of the cook's hips.
Sanji shivered as Zoro’s warm breath brushed against his ear, his voice deep and husky. “Idiot,” he said, grinning as he slid his hands around to cup Zoro’s face and turn it back so he could kiss him again. “Dinner can wait.” He wasn’t ready to walk away yet. Moments of privacy tended to be rare on Sunny, so Sanji wanted to make this last.
So did Zoro, leaning eagerly into the kiss, which meant that the bellow of “SAAAAANJIIIIII~~~!! FOOOOOOD!! I'M STAAAARVING!!!” piercing the room from far below made him freeze in mid-liplock, then groan and thunk his head onto the cook's shoulder. “What the fuck is with that guy's timing,” he grumbled. “Dammit, Luffy.”
...Of course. That just fucking figured. Sanji let out an exasperated sigh and closed his eyes, dropping his hands down to rest on Zoro’s forearms. “…We could ignore him?” he started to say hopefully, but didn’t even have a chance to complete his sentence before Luffy was bellowing again and demanding food. Sanji scowled and turned away abruptly, kicking open the trapdoor and yelling down: “I’M COMING, DAMMIT, HOLD YOUR FUCKING HORSES!”
Zoro scrubbed a hand over his face and huffed out an irritated breath, because it was that or grind his teeth in frustration. He followed Sanji over to the trapdoor and crouched to glare down at where he could see the small figure of their captain on the deck, flailing importantly at the cook and looking like he was about a second away from Gomu Gomu no Rocketing up to the crow's nest himself.
“Che. I'll keep him busy,” Zoro said, straightening and adding in a mutter, “I wanna beat his rubber head in right now, anyway.”
“Give the idiot a couple kicks from me, too,” Sanji said as he pulled a cigarette out of one of his pockets and stuck it in his mouth. He took a moment to light up, then exhaled a cloud of smoke and glanced over at Zoro. “So…” Not really sure where he was going with that, Sanji trailed off instead, looking somewhat sheepish. There was a giddy feeling bubbling up in his chest that was getting hard to ignore, and he was pretty sure a stupid grin was steadily taking over his face. Quickly, he tried to school his expression back into something that wasn’t quite so…ridiculous. “Er-I’ll…see you at dinner, then, yeah?”
Seeing the cook trying hard to suppress an enormous, silly grin made Zoro's annoyance fade more than a little, and something under his ribs kicked hard. Definitely the right decision. A smile stole onto his face, but he let himself pretend it was a smirk. “Yeah, Sanji. At dinner.” He didn't reach out to touch one more time, though it was a close call-that would accomplish just the opposite of getting Luffy his food ASAP. Instead he turned and quickly climbed down the short ladder to the foremast yard, and without bothering with the ropes, dropped all the way down to the lawn to deal with their captain.
As soon as Zoro was out of sight, Sanji let the grin win for a few seconds, as he was busy fighting off the new urge to do some sort of crazy victory dance or something. Get it together, man, time to stop acting like a schoolgirl. He gave his head a quick shake to clear it, accidentally caught sight of his ruined shirt as he was doing so, and then promptly scowled. Shit, he was going to have to change before he started cooking… Stupid marimo. The simple thought made him grin again, which in turn made him scowl at the grinning and-okay, he was going insane. Zoro made him insane. Sanji dragged a hand through his hair and sighed, and then - with that fucking persistent grin on his face - finally started making his way down to the deck so he could start dinner.
END
What: FIGHTING. And also...very much not fighting.
Where: The Crow's Nest on Thousand Sunny.
When: The evening of January 19th.
Rating: PG-13ish
Zoro stood at a window with his back to the trap door, resting his eyes absently on the ocean in the distance. Several strips of bandages circled his arms and more showed above the collar of his dark shirt, but he was barely aware of them. He just thumbed Wadou's hilt as he waited for the cook and tried not to think. He'd done enough thinking.
Sanji was sort of taking his time getting up to the crow’s nest. For no particular reason, he certainly wasn’t stalling or anything. Being nervous was one thing - which he was, admittedly - but he was damned well going to shove it aside and not be pathetic about this. Taking a deep breath, he finally pushed his way through the trapdoor, looking around until he spotted Zoro. “…Hey, marimo,” he said, pulling himself the rest of the way into the room. He straightened up and shoved his hands into his pockets, watching the other man somewhat warily.
He'd heard the clamber of the door, but it wasn't until Sanji spoke that Zoro glanced over his shoulder, then turned around. “Hey.” He watched the cook's careful body language for a long minute, then strode toward the center of the room, drawing Kitetsu and Shuusui fluidly. He stopped at a familiar distance from the other man and shifted into a loose ready stance, body relaxed but face and eyes neutral and veiled. Kitetsu raised in a lazy arc to point at the cook's nose. “Let's spar.”
“…Ain’t a lot of room up here,” Sanji said, automatically shifting his weight onto his back foot and nearly crossing his eyes as his focus moved to Zoro’s sword briefly, before snapping back to Zoro again. “But okay.” He tapped his other foot absently, cocking his head to the side a bit as he waited for Zoro’s opening move. Small room, and he had two swords out. Damn. This was gonna be interesting.
“There's enough.” It seemed like the cook would be at a disadvantage, the dimensions of the room curtailing his vertical movement and leaving practically everywhere within the range of Zoro's swords, but Zoro wasn't particularly concerned about being unfair. Sanji was Sanji, he'd find a way to make it work. Without another word, Zoro lowered his shoulder and darted forward, heavy Shuusui flashing toward the cook's stomach.
Fuck, okay, this was going to be more of a pain in the ass than interesting, Sanji realized as he lunged to the side to dodge and found his shoulder already nearly up against a wall. He ignored it, landing lightly on one foot and immediately swinging his other leg around at Zoro's side, knowing full well the kick was going to be blocked.
Zoro barely managed to keep from grinning darkly as he reversed his grip on Kitetsu and deflected the kick with the flat of the blade. It'd been more than a month since they'd been able to fight properly, and even confined as they were, Zoro's blood was already starting to zing. He cut shallowly up at the cook's neck with Shuusui from the opposite side-he had no intention of slicing into the wall. His eyes were focused on Sanji's face, watching for tiny tells of his next move and allowing his peripheral vision to register the rest of the cook's movements.
Sanji cursed under his breath and arched backwards away from Zoro's sword, his torso twisting in midair as he pulled his hands out of his pockets, planting one of them firmly on the ground as he fell backwards to steady himself. As annoying as this was, it was still…good. Not exactly what he’d been expecting, but maybe it was a testament of how fucked up they were that Zoro wanting to kick his ass actually seemed like a promising thing. Sanji kept his foot braced against Zoro’s sword as he let his weight settle quickly onto his hand, then as his other sword was still finishing its upward slice, he bent both knees in and swiftly aimed a mule-kick squarely at Zoro’s stomach.
The instant he saw Sanji's knees bend, Zoro crouched and pushed off backward, spine arching slightly so that when the kick shot out like a cannon it connected only glancingly as he was moving away. He quickly slid to a controlled stop, and rather than pause to regroup, came back with a scything diagonal slice from over his shoulder, blades held closely parallel.
There wasn't much time to recover after that move, and Sanji had only just regained his footing again when Zoro came at him. He braced himself for impact, lifting one leg and blocking the swords with the sole of his shoe, sliding backwards from the force of Zoro’s attack until his back hit the wall. “The hell’s with the sudden urge to spar anyway?” he grunted, using the wall as leverage to get some power behind his foot so he could shove Zoro’s swords away.
Zoro didn't answer through a series of rapid exchanges, pulling away from Sanji's shove and ducking under the prompt follow-up roundhouse to the head. He launched cross-cut slashes in response that the cook evaded by flipping neatly over Zoro's head, leaving enough room to spin around and level a hammering kick at Zoro's shoulder on his way down. The swordsman swiftly turned and caught it on the base of Kitetsu's blade, then whipped his arm out to force Sanji away. The cook twisted like a cat in midair and touched down on the other side of the room, and Zoro didn't immediately follow. Instead, after a moment he slowly unsheathed Wadou and clamped her between his teeth, finally letting a knife-edged grin emerge. “It's a reminder,” he said, low voice vibrating around the white sword's hilt.
“...You've gotta be fucking kidding me,” Sanji muttered, taking in the familiar image of Zoro with all three swords out. All three. Shit. He fell back into a defensive pose, his entire body humming with anticipation and a sort of mounting energy that he wasn’t able to fully utilize in the confined space. “A reminder of what?” he asked, speaking louder this time as he kept his gaze fixed on Zoro.
A glint of setting sunlight flashed up the length of Wadou's blade as Zoro tilted his head slightly. “Of who and how we are,” he returned, adrenaline moving through him in a slow, enjoyable roll. He added under his breath, “Before we get into how we could be.” Then his eyes sharpened again. “Let's go.” With that he flew forward, slashing all three katana at once.
Sanji frowned in confusion when Zoro muttered something, but he didn’t have time to work out what exactly he’d said before he had to block against Zoro’s attack. He kept mostly on the defensive after that, ducking and dodging, catching Zoro’s swords with the flat of his foot and occasionally shoving them out of the way so he could get in a few kicks of his own. When his back hit the wall again, he scowled, then waited until Zoro came at him with another three-sword attack before he dropped to the ground, snapping his leg around in an attempt to knock the other man’s feet out from under him.
Zoro jerked his knees up to crouch in midair, letting the cook's leg whip by underneath, but his forward momentum carried him into the next kick. He blocked with two swords but was still launched back. Rolling after he hit the ground to regain his feet, he shot up fluidly and they were off again. Zoro savored the rush as Sanji matched him move for move even as the swordsman steadily increased the speed and intensity of his attack. Their focus strung wire-tight between them and they had both started to sweat.
They clashed again and broke away from a quick exchange that left the cuts on Zoro's upper arm bleeding through their bandages, and the cook's shirt was cut open from collarbone to shoulder. The skin underneath bore a long red line, but Wadou obeyed her master's will and hadn't drawn blood.
Sanji hissed as he drew back, eyes dropping for a second to take in the damage done to his shirt. “Asshole,” he growled, launching himself forward once more and lashing out with a vicious round of kicks. “Don’t slice up my clothes, goddammit, I liked this shirt!” He ducked underneath Zoro’s next slashing attack, and then sprung into a back handspring to give himself a little room. But then Zoro was dashing forward again in the next second, and Sanji met his swords with a solid kick directly against the blades, holding his foot in place for a moment so he could catch his breath.
Zoro smirked wordlessly at the pissed off expression on the cook's face, and absolutely did not let him stop to breathe. Instead, without warning he pulled a ridiculous spinning move that was more suited to battles where his eyes were shadowed by his bandana. The result had Sanji hitting the wall, pinned with two swords hovering dangerously low, ready to react to any attempt at a kick, and Wadou kissing his throat. And then Zoro stopped moving, six inches separating them and their eyes locked, both panting lightly.
Growling again, Sanji was half ready to slam his knee into Zoro’s side when the other man abruptly paused. Sanji went still in response, letting his leg relax after a moment when Zoro made no move to look away from him. Another beat passed and he swallowed against the blade at his throat, brow furrowing just a bit as he waited for Zoro to say something.
“So this is us. Normal.” The words, thrumming and slightly out of breath, resonated down Wadou's length, tickling Sanji's neck as Zoro kept his gaze steady. A long beat later the swordsman broke the tension and pulled back a step, sheathing Shuusui and Kitetsu in the blink of an eye and transferring Wadou from his mouth to his hand. “And we could be fine like this. Probably.”
Sanji grimaced a bit and let out a long, slow breath after Zoro spoke, leaning back slightly against the wall and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Depends on what your definition of fine is,” he muttered, watching Zoro carefully through sweaty strands of hair he hadn't bothered to sweep back into place yet. “But sure, alright. Reminder received.”
Zoro nodded and spun his white sword once before sheathing it, as well. After a brief pause, he stepped forward once more and clapped Sanji's face between both hands, then held it, squishing his cheeks in more than a little. “If we give this another try,” he said, ignoring the cook's highly indignant noise, “You'll need to keep your word. That can't happen again, or this-other thing-will break. For good.” He stared at Sanji with dark eyes.
Whatever annoyed words Sanji had been about to say regarding Zoro’s manhandling quickly piled up in his throat and got stuck there. He settled for nodding somewhat stupidly after Zoro was finished, his eyes a little wider than normal. “It won’t,” he tried to say, but talking through squished cheeks was a little difficult and a lot incomprehensible. Scowling, Sanji reached up and yanked one of Zoro’s hands away from his face, holding tightly onto his wrist, and said again in a rush: “It won’t, I swear it won’t, I wouldn’t do that to you again, I-I shouldn’t have the first time- I’m sorry.”
The cook's first smooshed attempt at speaking made Zoro's lips want to quirk up, but only briefly. At the rest, the hand still on Sanji's face dropped to touch his neck, trailed down a little, then fell away. “Alright. Good. As long as that's-that.” He tugged the other hand lightly but finally left it trapped in the cook's grasp and let out a breath. “And I did hear you the first ten or so times you apologized. You can stop now.”
“…Just wanted to make sure it got through to you,” Sanji mumbled. “I don’t think you get how much I-” He broke off, shifting his gaze away, and belatedly remembered to let go of Zoro’s wrist. His hand dropped to his side, fingers drumming anxiously against the wall behind him as he gave his head a tiny shake. “Anyway… That’s definitely-that.”
Zoro just repeated, “Alright,” letting the cut off sentence go. Whatever it was, he didn't need to hear it, even if he was curious. And once his tongue untangled a bit it was-simpler than he'd thought, to just go ahead and say, “Then-you're insane and you...still make me insane, and I want to.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, focusing on Sanji's eyes even though the cook wasn't looking back at him, and clarified, “Try again.”
Sanji’s gaze snapped back to Zoro so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash. “You-really?” he said, straightening up off the wall some and then halting uncertainly. His stomach was doing some sort of weird clenching thing that he steadfastly ignored. “Seriously??”
“No, after all this I'm pulling your damn leg,” Zoro said, rolling his eyes. “Yes, really, seriously.” He pulled a hand out of his pocket to rub at the back of his neck. “...Problem?” He was...pretty sure he knew the answer to that, but ended up holding a tense breath anyway, peering at Sanji sideways.
“Dumbass,” Sanji murmured, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah, problem. I’m leading you on like you’re pulling my leg.” He pushed further off the wall and took a step forward, mirroring Zoro’s pose and shoving his hands back into his own pockets in a too-casual way. “Obviously there ain’t a problem, marimo.”
“Good,” Zoro said, his gaze lingering on the cook's small smile until he realized he was leaning forward unconsciously. He rocked back on his heels a bit and cleared his throat before lifting an eyebrow and adding dryly, “No orgies, either. Even if I'm invited, too.”
Sanji snorted, a real smile breaking out over his face this time before he could stop it. “Damn,” he returned just as dryly. “You mean I’m stuck having you all to myself?”
“Looks like it. Poor you,” Zoro deadpanned. Then the corner of his mouth twitched up and he looked away in an automatic effort to keep it hidden.
“Seriously. The stuff I gotta put up with.” Sanji shifted his weight from one foot to the other, watching Zoro in amusement. He let his grin shift into something more like a smirk, then masked that with an innocent look that he directed at the ceiling. “Well, now that that’s taken care of, guess I can go start dinner…” he said, and then took two steps in the direction of the trapdoor.
Zoro might've considered letting the idiot cook leave-just for being an idiot-if his body hadn't moved to cover those two steps without his permission. He blinked and looked down to where Sanji's tie was wrapped around his hand and pulled taut, which he didn't even remember doing. Then he looked up into the cook's half-lidded blue eye and gave a mental shrug. “Dinner can wait a minute,” he murmured, tugging Sanji closer and leaning in to touch their mouths together.
Sanji’s breath hitched when they connected at last, and for a long moment he just let Zoro kiss him. He stood there as his mind heaved a giant sigh of relief, suddenly feeling lighter than he had in weeks, and let himself enjoy being able to have the other man this close again. It was easy to relax into it and grin slightly against Zoro’s mouth, to kiss back lightly and let his own hand curl into the material of Zoro’s shirt. But there was a rapidly growing need to be closer to him, and when he couldn’t ignore the urge to really kiss Zoro any longer, he pressed up against him a little more insistently. Then, with a faint feeling of finally echoing through his head, he slipped his free arm behind the back of Zoro’s neck and pulled him in to kiss him hungrily.
“Mmph,” Zoro said as he was pulled in, flailing just a little before he let go of the tie to rest his hands on Sanji's slim hips. His heart started to pound as their lips tangled and clung feverishly, and when his mouth fell open to let the insistent cook in, he went lightheaded. This...He hadn't been sure he was going to be able to do any of this again, not with Sanji, and now that they were...Ah, the wet, velvet slide, the slick sounds-a small shudder ran through him and his hands tightened, thumbs pressing into the sensitive muscle inside the cook's hipbones.
Sanji made a low, pleased sound in the back of his throat, tilting his head to the side a bit as Zoro let him deepen the kiss. He still almost couldn’t believe that this was really happening, that Zoro hadn’t just told him it was all over between them. But it was, it was happening, it was real, Zoro was all strong lines and hard muscle against him, and fuck it was amazing. Sanji was tempted to just keep kissing him for the rest of forever, but he broke off eventually, forehead pressed against Zoro’s and still holding on tight, and tried to catch his breath. “So…” he panted as he cast about for something to say. “…Guess you remembered ties do come in handy.”
Adrenaline from the kiss had piled on top of the leftover surge from their spar, so Zoro tried to even out his breathing and mumbled, “The noose has its uses.” Mumbled into Sanji's lips, actually, as he stole another kiss, brief and languid, because really, all he had to do was tilt his head, it was way too easy. After a moment he exerted some willpower and turned aside, a sighing breath stirring blond hair. “...Now you can go make dinner,” he said into Sanji's ear, but contrary to his words, made no move to pull back or let go of the cook's hips.
Sanji shivered as Zoro’s warm breath brushed against his ear, his voice deep and husky. “Idiot,” he said, grinning as he slid his hands around to cup Zoro’s face and turn it back so he could kiss him again. “Dinner can wait.” He wasn’t ready to walk away yet. Moments of privacy tended to be rare on Sunny, so Sanji wanted to make this last.
So did Zoro, leaning eagerly into the kiss, which meant that the bellow of “SAAAAANJIIIIII~~~!! FOOOOOOD!! I'M STAAAARVING!!!” piercing the room from far below made him freeze in mid-liplock, then groan and thunk his head onto the cook's shoulder. “What the fuck is with that guy's timing,” he grumbled. “Dammit, Luffy.”
...Of course. That just fucking figured. Sanji let out an exasperated sigh and closed his eyes, dropping his hands down to rest on Zoro’s forearms. “…We could ignore him?” he started to say hopefully, but didn’t even have a chance to complete his sentence before Luffy was bellowing again and demanding food. Sanji scowled and turned away abruptly, kicking open the trapdoor and yelling down: “I’M COMING, DAMMIT, HOLD YOUR FUCKING HORSES!”
Zoro scrubbed a hand over his face and huffed out an irritated breath, because it was that or grind his teeth in frustration. He followed Sanji over to the trapdoor and crouched to glare down at where he could see the small figure of their captain on the deck, flailing importantly at the cook and looking like he was about a second away from Gomu Gomu no Rocketing up to the crow's nest himself.
“Che. I'll keep him busy,” Zoro said, straightening and adding in a mutter, “I wanna beat his rubber head in right now, anyway.”
“Give the idiot a couple kicks from me, too,” Sanji said as he pulled a cigarette out of one of his pockets and stuck it in his mouth. He took a moment to light up, then exhaled a cloud of smoke and glanced over at Zoro. “So…” Not really sure where he was going with that, Sanji trailed off instead, looking somewhat sheepish. There was a giddy feeling bubbling up in his chest that was getting hard to ignore, and he was pretty sure a stupid grin was steadily taking over his face. Quickly, he tried to school his expression back into something that wasn’t quite so…ridiculous. “Er-I’ll…see you at dinner, then, yeah?”
Seeing the cook trying hard to suppress an enormous, silly grin made Zoro's annoyance fade more than a little, and something under his ribs kicked hard. Definitely the right decision. A smile stole onto his face, but he let himself pretend it was a smirk. “Yeah, Sanji. At dinner.” He didn't reach out to touch one more time, though it was a close call-that would accomplish just the opposite of getting Luffy his food ASAP. Instead he turned and quickly climbed down the short ladder to the foremast yard, and without bothering with the ropes, dropped all the way down to the lawn to deal with their captain.
As soon as Zoro was out of sight, Sanji let the grin win for a few seconds, as he was busy fighting off the new urge to do some sort of crazy victory dance or something. Get it together, man, time to stop acting like a schoolgirl. He gave his head a quick shake to clear it, accidentally caught sight of his ruined shirt as he was doing so, and then promptly scowled. Shit, he was going to have to change before he started cooking… Stupid marimo. The simple thought made him grin again, which in turn made him scowl at the grinning and-okay, he was going insane. Zoro made him insane. Sanji dragged a hand through his hair and sighed, and then - with that fucking persistent grin on his face - finally started making his way down to the deck so he could start dinner.
END